


For You, For You

by orphan_account



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Aziraphale comforts Crowley, Beelzebub is Daemon Gender and uses zzee/zzem/zzey pronouns, Crowley Was Raphael Before He Fell (Good Omens), Crowley is Bad at Being a Demon (Good Omens), Crowley is a Mess (Good Omens), Crowley is snek, Crowley's Plants (Good Omens), Eventual Smut, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gabriel is actually soft, Gabriel/Raphael - Freeform, M/M, Mentions of homophobia, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Trans Newt, Trauma, as friends you goons, everyone has a bad time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-08-20 17:14:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 22,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20231449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It Started, as It will End, with a Fall.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I Know You  
You Wish I Was There  
Because You Loved Me Always Like I Did

Aziraphale was falling.

That was about... the only thing he knew for sure. Everything else was a blur.

He didn't know who he was, WHAT he was, not anymore.

He had the feeling he shouldn't be here, in more ways than one.

He thought, "I shouldn't be here. I should be up there. I shouldn't be falling."

But he also thought that he was an intruder. He shouldn't be here.

He was jolted back to his senses as he landed with a sickening thunk on the cold, hard rock.

He ran through a list of things that seemed random, even irrelevant though, in reality, they were perfectly reasonable.

My location? I don't know.

Why I'm here? Don't know that either.

My Name?

Azira-

Raphael.

His name was Raphael.

Raphael slowly got up to his feet, and stared at the lakes of lava and sulphur laid out before him.

A sudden panic gripped him as he felt his back.

He cried out in pain and despair, finding nothing but sweet smelling blood, that stained the ground in rose red.

He had fallen.

"Please, Please no..."

Raphael was vaguely aware he was screaming up to the Heavens, sitting tantalisingly close high above him. He begged God to let him back in. She didn't answer.

He no longer felt her love, no longer felt the sweet curl of beauty inside of him, the only beauty he had ever known.

It was Gone.

He was Gone.

"How Pathetic..."

A harsh voice sounded from the ether, reverberating off the walls of wherever Raphael had ended up. It sounded... out of place.

And suddenly, Aziraphale was himself again. He knew that voice. He'd heard it in his worst nightmares.

"Do you want to go back to your friends, little one?"

Aziraphale whispered something unintelligible involuntarily, a cold fear growing inside him.

"You CAN'T."

The tone was scathing, but sad, intermixed with sobs.

"They'd betray you, give you to me in an instant if it meant saving themselves. They don't care about you. Nobody cares about you. Except ME."

Raphael whimpered. "That isn't t-true..."

"What isn't true little one?" The voice laughed, "That your 'friends' don't care about you, or that I care about you?"

"If you care about me, you wouldn't be doing this." Raphael fought to keep his voice steady, but tears flowed from his eyes, giving his sorrow and terror away.

A loud scream sounded in the cavern, a scream so loud the walls shook. Stalactites dropped around them, the sulphur lake rippling with the vibrations of the scream, which had now dissolved into laughter.

"I do this because it's what you _deserve._ Only someone who cares about you would give you what you deserve." But doubt shone through his voice, doubt laced with pain.

"You weren't good enough for Her. That's why She let you fall." The voice wasn't addressing Aziraphale anymore. It was addressing _itself._

"But you're going to be good enough for me. You're going to be perfect for me, little one." A pause. The air was thick with desperation, with pain. The breathing of the voice grew laboured.

"SO WHY WEREN'T YOU PERFECT?" It yelled. It's voice was despairing, full of the worst kind of sadness, the only thing the voice knew now.

"YOU SHOULD'VE BEEN PERFECT. YOU SHOULD'VE BEEN BETTER. BE BETTER."

Aziraphale stared in horror as Crowley fell to the floor beside him, black wings fanned out, flapping desperately, unable to fly away from the pain, or fly anywhere. Trapped.

"G-grow better." He sobbed. "I won't have to punish you if you grow better."

Crowley looked up and turned his head, looking straight into Aziraphale's eyes.

His eyes were like mirrors, and those mirrors reflected pain.

And Raphael woke up.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So lay out the cards  
And try to break free  
Come away from here and come to me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. thanks for reading so far.  
Hopefully I'll be banging these out once a week from now on, but I'll update whenever I can. Hope you enjoy!

Crowley woke up to a ringing phone.  
A flash of irritation ran through his mind. He’d just saved the bloody world for fucks sake. He deserved some rest, surely?  
All this irritation seeped away as he glimpsed the caller ID. It was Aziraphale.  
Crowley gave a soft smile as he picked up the phone, which was trying desperately to escape Crowley’s bedside table in lieu of buzzing to alert its owner to the fact he had a call. 

Panic ran through Crowley’s mind as he realised the time. 4:30 AM. Being in love with someone for 6000 years often left you worried for their wellbeing, especially because the last time the Angel rung him it was just before Crowley stumbled across his shop in flames that he thought had killed him, and especially after the Angel in questions boss tried to kill him.  
No, Crowley scolded himself. He couldn’t think about Gabriel now. That would just make him sad, and he didn’t want Aziraphale enquiring as to why.

It was yet another reason Crowley believed Aziraphale loved him too.

Quickly jabbing the green button, Crowley, attempting to hide the fear in his voice, said “Hello, Angel. You are aware it’s half four in the morning?”  
“Of course I know, Crowley.” Aziraphale spoke, with mock irritation in his voice, as he sat at the desk in the bookshop, anxiously winding the wire of his telephone around his finger like a lovestruck girl in a teen movie, which, in a way, he was. “I was just wondering if you’re alright.”

Crowley, touched by the gesture, assured his Angel that he was alright. “Why are you calling then.” He inquired softly.  
“Oh, just a, well… just a nightmare.”

Crowley jolted upright, his face a picture of concern. Crowley was no stranger to nightmares. After all, until quite recently, he had been living one. Being blamed for the atrocities humanity commits can weigh on ones mental health after 6000 years, even if one is a Demon.

If he thought about it, Aziraphale was really the only one who had gotten him through the misery of the 14th Century, and the thought of him saw Crowley through the various punishments inflicted on him by hell when he lessened the spread of the Black Plague. He wondered if anyone had ever smiled a pure, genuine, happy smile while being hung over The Pit of The Eternal Abyss while their body and consciousness is scattered across the Nine Circles of Hell. He very much doubted it.

Crowley had never had a true nightmare, though. One you get while sleeping. Despite snoozing through the entirety of the 1800s (The 18th Century really was exhausting,) His sleep was filled with pleasant dreams of Aziraphale. And now apparently the Principality had had a nightmare. Crowley didn’t think the Angel even slept.

“Well, what was it about?”  
“Well, ummmm…”

“You can tell me Angel, you know that.” Said Crowley softly, pouring all his love and affection into the sentence. “How About we meet for lunch at the Bookshop tomorrow, and we can discuss it over some wine, hmm?”  
Aziraphale paused for a second, considering it, before chuckling softly. “Alright, Crowley. How does 1 PM sound for you?”  
“On the dot, Angel.” Murmured Crowley. “I’ll see you tomorrow, darling.” Darling. Shit. Where had that come from?

Aziraphale was silent for awhile. “Okay, Crowley.” He whispered, his voice filled with love. “Goodbye, darling.”

Even Before the A-Not-Alypse, it was quite obvious to everyone Crowley and Aziraphale loved each other. After Eden, when Adam and Eve’s children saw the Demon and Angel discussing the pros and cons of the different berries that grew in the lush forests that the first Humans stumbled across on their Quest for Survival, they asked their parents if there were other people that loved like Adam and Eve did, because “Those funny men were just like you. Are they in love too?” 

In the days of Noah’s Ark, people asked Aziraphale how he could bear to leave his lover for dead (Because Noah wasn’t allowing him on the boat,) and Aziraphale hurriedly replied that they weren’t together and left feeling quite embarrassed, while the men shook their heads and muttered about denial of one's feelings.

When Jesus was still around, a group of men found it suited them to scold Aziraphale and Crowley for being in “Sinful” Homosexual releationship, to which Aziraphale replied quite politely that they weren’t together and that in reality, God was perfectly alright with people who weren’t Heterosexual. The next day, Jesus himself told them to fuck off, on the recomendation of a certain Demon. Sadly, that part was omitted from the Bible.

In Rome, a rather exhausted bartender who had to endure the incessant witterings of a certain Angel about the fact that his companion had never sampled an oyster, and remarked later that it was sinfully obvious that he was trying to get into the red haired ones tunic.

In Medieval England, as the two otherworldly beings chatted in a tavern about how one of them had apparently liberated Guinevere and replaced her with the Kings errant Stepsister, one particular man named Jevil was quite struck with how brazenly the supposed “White Knight” lied to the red haired Devil. It must be because he fancies a shag, Jevil thought. It’s obvious that they’ve been in love for a long time.

In Stuart England, Shakespear was quite busy writing a play on two particular gentlemen, who were his patrons. One of them often talked about how his love for the other was forbidden by their families. Well, he didn’t say families. He said “Employers”, but the Playwright decided family worked better. Apart from the fact that Romeo and Juliet were different genders, (Though of course, Angels and Demons do not have genders, Crowley and Aziraphale were male-presenting at the time, and homosexuality was forbidden and all that.)  
And the fact they died at the end and were together, the story mirrored that of Aziraphale and Crowley.

In Revolution-Era France, The peasants at the Bastille reported two lovers of the same sex emerging from the prison, and going to eat crepes together. The Revolutionaries, many of which were not at all Heterosexual, thought this sweet and quite brazen of the two men.

In Victorian Era England, many people walking in St James park reported two Gay Men having an argument in the park to the police. The police never found these homosexual deviants.

The last thoughts of the Nazis in World War II Era England was that the lover of this dimwitted rare bookseller had thoroughly japed them, and that in the future they would never have they should definitely look out for this ‘Crowley.’

In 1969, the year being Gay was legalized in England, many LGBT+ people sought refuge at A.Z.Fells Rare Bookshop away from Homophobic family and the prying eyes of the public. They never questioned Fell’s relationship with Anthony J Crowley, but most of them realized the two were in love, and assumed they were together. This was reinforced when some of them, rejoicing in the streets, witnessed Mr Crowley and Mr Fell get into Mr Crowley’s old car together and have a very tender discussion together. Many wondered as they got in if the two would really be brazen enough to have sex in a Bentley in the middle of Soho.

At the Dowling Household in the early 2000s, Thaddeus Dowling and his wife, as well as everyone else in the household including Warlock thought that the Gardener and the Nanny were definitely married. As Crowley was currently Female-Presenting, with Aziraphale being Male Presenting, the sadly quite backwards thinking staff and members of the household were alright with this. As for Warlock, he didn’t give two shits and was raised by his Nanny to be tolerant or suffer. Promised suffering was never given. 

And of course, the Demon and Angel themselves were aware of it.  
Crowley fell in love first. He’d always thought Aziraphale might be different, even before he thought of him as something other than an obstacle that would get him disgraced. The flaming sword only confirmed it. Over the years, Crowley only fell deeper in love, and he eventually realised how Aziraphale may return his feelings.

Aziraphale, however, only noticed how lush the Demon was. Then how the Demon wasn’t killing him. He was different.  
But he couldn’t be. A Demon is a Demon. He must want something. To tempt Aziraphale to falling? Maybe he just wants favors. Sex. Something or another. And if he wanted sex from Aziraphale, his temptations were working. There was nothing Aziraphale wanted more than to go to bed with Crawly, as he knew the Demon back then, and it was only around Rome he realised that maybe, just maybe, he was in love with his adversary too.

“Maybe that was the reason I was so… promiscuous then.” Aziraphale thought miserably to himself. “I was trying to compensate.”  
Because he thought he and Crowley could never be together. Aziraphale could fall, and Crowley would be killed. Besides, even though he was in love with Crowley, he wasn’t sure Crowley loved him back.

Until the church…  
“Angel!”

Aziraphale jumped and whirled around to meet Crowley, who was carrying a plastic bag. He smiled his adorable smile as he waved it around. “I brought lunch.”

While Aziraphale wasn’t particularly fond of take-out, he had to admit the aromatic duck Crowley had brought was divine. He did love eastern food, particularly the cuisine of the Japanese.  
And Crowley loved watching him eat while he sipped on his wine, a special reserve sauvignon blanc, aged for forty years. Crowley was feeling quite odd, as Aziraphale kept glancing at him warily for some reason, as if afraid Crowley was a bomb that might go off. It was like he stared \t Warlock sometimes, when they first came to be in the Dowlings employ and when they still thought he was the Anti-Christ. 

Crowley, too, knew they couldn’t be together. One of his worst fears was of Aziraphale falling because of their Arrangement, and these fears had been especially pressing because of the recent near-Apocalypse. Maybe…?

“So, this nightmare.” Began Crowley, “Was it about falling?”  
Aziraphale looked shocked, his azure eyes wide open. “How did you know?”  
“Because I know you, Angel.” Said Crowley sadly, trying desperately not to reach over and kiss him, and make everything better. Nothing was holding them back anymore, but the Falling fear still lurked, especially now.  
“It wasn’t about me falling, Crowley.” This got the Demons attention.  
“Who then?”  
Aziraphale hesitated for a second. “Did you ever know… the Archangel Raphael?”  
Crowley’s eyes snapped open, and he dropped his wine glass onto the ground. It shattered with an unmistakable tinkling of glass.

“Crowley.” Whispered Aziraphale calmly. “Are you alright?”  
When Crowley didn’t answer, his face gaunt, his breathing heavy, Aziraphale began to panic.

“Crowley! Talk to me, please!”

Disgusting. Bad behaviour. Rouge. How could you? HOW COULD YOU, RAPHAEL?

“I’ve got to go.” Crowley said tearfully, fighting to maintain the control that was slipping from his fingers.  
“Wait!” Aziraphale ran towards Crowley, who was storming towards the exit.  
“Crowley, I didn’t mean-”  
Crowley turned around and angrily shoved Aziraphale backwards. The Angel stumbled and stared at his Demon fearfully.

Crowley’s glasses had slipped off his face and were lying on the bookshelf floor. Rays of sunlight shone through the windows, signs of a storm right behind it. Tears were streaming from Crowley’s eyes, his world falling apart in this little Soho Bookshop. Again.

“Crowley.” Aziraphale took the Demons hands in his and stared into the serpentine eyes in front of him. “I’m sorry.”

Crowley let go. Once again, he let go of his lifeline. Once again, he fell into the abyss. This time, it was into the darkness of his own mind, his own memories. His eyes were mirrors. Mirrors that reflected Aziraphale’s guilt and desperation. His love.

Once again, Crowley fell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and Comments help me write!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let yourself be coerced  
Try to resist  
Surely this ain't something you want to miss?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Everybody! Thanks for reading!  
The update schedule may be once a week, but I'm enjoying writing and sharing with you guys so much! I hope ya'll are having just as much fun reading this as I did writing this!  
trigger warning for PTSD, Flashbacks, rape, and abuse.

Crowley bought his plants in the 70s.

He heard an excellent article on the radio that insisted talking to plants makes them grow better.

This intrigued the Serpent of Eden enough that he suggested the next time he and Aziraphale met to compare notes for the Arrangement, they met for a cup of tea and cake at the cafe in the little local Garden Centre.

Of course, Aziraphale was delighted by this suggestion, cake and Crowley being his two favourite things among Gods creations. So, an Angel and Demon had a lovely Cream Tea at the Little Sprout Cafe at the Ducks Lane Garden Centre. (The fact that the cafe didn’t do Cream Teas is beside the point.)

After discussing at length whether or not the moon landing constituted as an evil deed, Crowley browsed for plants. He couldn’t help thinking of how Lucifer stared at Crowley when they first met. Crowley, or should we say Raphael, didn’t notice at the time how God's right hand Angel regarded Raphael. He stared at the Archangel as if staring into his very soul, dissecting and separating every piece of him, trying to see whether Raphael would be useful or not.

Crowley only bought the most perfect plants he could find.

  
  


For the first few days, Crowley was… well not exactly kind. He used all his ‘lines’ on the plants that he used when talking to humans. ‘What about that weather, eh?” “How’s the football?’ ‘What about (Insert currently unpopular Politician)?’ ‘I can’t be arsed.’ ‘Yes, I’m gay, don’t see why that should matter, prick.’ ‘Do you have any angel cake?’ ‘My mate wants to know how many nipples you have.’ Normal stuff like that.

Then it began.

It started with the leaf spots. Crowley was spitting mad. He’d talked to them, given them a home, practically bloody raised them, and this was how they repaid him?

He teleported the first plant to St James. The second to Aziraphale’s flat. The third to Serbia.

The fourth he tipped down the toilet. The fifth he put in the garbage grinder or whatever its called. By the sixth he was devastated. They were growing so well. Why did one of them always have to be imperfect?

They need to be perfect. HE needs to be perfect.

Or he’ll die.

  
  
  


He found himself staring out of the window, into the panorama of the London skyline.

He didn’t feel sad. Depressed. Fearful. He didn’t feel any negative emotions.

In fact he felt no emotions at all.

Crowley didn’t have the strength to stand anymore. He crawled into the corner and collapsed, hugging his knees.

He could hear their voices whispering. They were talking about him.

“Is this how Satan feels?” Crowley thought out loud. If he did, he wouldn’t do what he did, surely?

But Crowley knew what he was doing to the plants. He kept on doing it, no matter how much pain it brought him. 

But that was different. At least he didn’t… Crowley shook his head. He couldn’t. Couldn’t think about it, yet it still tore through every part of him. He felt like he was being split apart.

“You can do it, little one. I know you can.” Crawly sobbed and shook his head. It was all he could do. “No, no, no…”

It was a mantra. A mantra that kept him sane. It was so GOOD, but it felt so wrong. 

It had to be him. Confusing his senses. “You want this.”

No I don’t. Not like this. Never like this, never again.

“Please forgive me…”

But the plants only stared at him. ‘It was never us.’

‘It was always you.’

‘Always.’

Another voice broke through the gloom. Crowley was so shattered he couldn’t recognise it.

“What happened to you, Crowley?”

He felt his arms wrapping around him.

no no no no no

Crowley was up in an instant, fists flailing. He had no control. The panic had taken over.

He found himself met with a blue eyed Angel.

“Please, Crowley, what’s wrong with you?”

“You’re not, you’re not,”

“I’m Aziraphale, Crowley. I’m Aziraphale, and I… and I… I love you.”

Immediately, Crowley’s vision cleared. His heart beat fast inside his ribcage.

“Azirphale…” Crowley slurred, collapsing into the Principalities arms, Sobbing in the awfulness of it all. He almost longed for the numbness, the emptiness that came before this.

He longed for everything he could’ve had. For Gabriel, for Hesparus, for God.

  
He’d asked why God tested them to destruction. Now he thought he knew.

“I’m Sorry.”   
Crowley couldn’t tell who it was saying that.

“It’s alright, Crowley. It will be fine, love, darling, it’s okay. I’m here.”

“Did you mean what you said?”

Aziraphale chuckled as he placed Crowley on his bed.

“Yes, love. Forever. Always.”

“Always.”

“Always, Crowley.”

The Demon smiled as he closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the sads.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And It's pain reflected in God's words of sorrow."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Trigger warnings: Blood, violence, Trauma

A million thoughts rushed through Aziraphale’s head. His world seemed to have gone strange and cold. The only warmth he could sense was from the small figure lying hunched up on the bed breathing raggedly despite being fast asleep.

Aziraphale didn’t know how Crowley could stand it here. When he first came to stay after the little Armageddon that wasn’t, Aziraphale was shocked by how oppressive and fearful the air felt. He assumed it must be Crowley’s congealed fear of Hell, or the fear they both had of imminent destruction and eternal nothingness.

  
However, that was because the plants weren’t there.

  
Aziraphale knew Crowley had plants. He assumed that they’d died. Now he knew that Crowley had shoved them out of the way so Aziraphale didn’t see what was going on.

Aziraphale had had a nice discussion with the plants, after he assured them that they weren’t in trouble, not anymore.

They told the Angel everything: How Crowley projected his own insecurities and life experiences onto the plants to cope with his trauma, how they had suffered for years.

Aziraphale was angry at Crowley for doing this, of course, but he wasn’t that angry. He understood. The plants understood too. Plants are quite different from Humans, in the sense that they are much kinder and don’t hold grudges. This was true even for these plants, who bore no ill-will towards their master.

Aziraphale understood for different reasons. Though he may not act it often, Aziraphale is quite smart, at least for an Angel, who are normally quite dimwitted unless they are high-ranking. An Archangel, for example.

As soon as Aziraphale awoke from his nightmare, the seed that his dream was about Crowley’s falling was planted. Which also meant that Crowley had once been Raphael.

Aziraphale didn’t know much about Raphael. He knew that he was in charge of commanding the 4th Battalion in the First War. The entire 4th Battalion was apparently wiped out by Dagon, along with the brave Archangel Raphael, who loyally battled for Heaven and God and died alongside his Battalion.

But now it all made sense. If Raphael fell… Crowley’s bad reaction to the dream…

Aziraphale never really thought about the story much. Why should he?

But, as an Angel created for the War, he couldn’t help thinking about how technically, he was MADE for Raphael. His name, Aziraphale, meant “of Raphael.” He was originally supposed to serve in the 4th Battalion, but served in the 3rd after it was destroyed.

Aziraphale had very mixed feelings about this. After all, he was made to serve Raphael. Was that… was that the only reason he was attracted to Crowley? The only reason why Aziraphale loved him at all?

But the other Angels never experienced such attraction to their bosses… at least not that Aziraphale knew of…

But it couldn’t be true. When Aziraphale thought of Crowley, he didn’t think of Archangels, of Heavenly bliss, of the power of the Divine. He thought of Crowley. He thought of striking red hair. He thought of amber eyes, snake-like pupils. He thought of a skinny, lithe frame, alluring hips, of how Crowley’s mouth curled into a smile. He thought of smoky black clothes and dark glasses. And even more so than that, he thought of Crowley’s laugh. His voice. The way he hid his natural kindness under a thin veil of minor temptations and lackluster thwarting. How he loved children. How he believed anything was possible, even though he acted cynical and nihilistic. Aziraphale thought of CROWLEY. 

The Demon he loved.

  
Could Crowley even be classed as a Demon? Crowley was more angelic than everyone in Heaven combined. Crowley was more angelic than Aziraphale, even. Why he’d fallen was a mystery to the Angel of the Eastern Gate.

Aziraphale carefully touched his lips to Crowley’s forehead. The kiss was feather soft, yet Aziraphale’s heart was heavy. He still remembered how, when Satan rose and terror filled Crowley’s eyes, Aziraphale ran towards him, hugging his best friend, his love for what he thought would be the last time. 

Aziraphale lay down besides Crowley, and closed his eyes. What else was there to do?

  
  
  


Aziraphale slowly blinked his eyes open. His mind was foggy and his body felt numb.

Three figures stood over him, glaring.

Aziraphale struggled up and blinked, the blurriness fading.

Oh no.

In front of Aziraphale stood Michael, Sandalphon, and Uriel.

Aziraphale gave a little scream and jumped back.

The three were whispering to each other, barely acknowledging Aziraphale’s presence. 

Immediately, Aziraphale noticed two things. One: Gabriel’s absence. Two: The Angels before him were wearing the clothes Aziraphale had first met them in, before everything. Uriel in plain white robes with a glowing golden halo atop her head, Sandalphon in pale beige priest’s robes and a pink cape that looked ridiculous on him, and Michael in a baby blue outfit similar to that of a nun.

“What’s going on here?”

Gabriel. Raphael sighed with relief. Gabriel, his brother, his oldest friend, his closest confidant.    
The others would listen to him, surely.

“Raphael?”

  
“Ah, Gabriel.” The other Angels were staring down at    
Raphael cruelly. Cold fear twisted in his stomach. “We’re glad you’re here.”

“Why is… Why is Raphael-” Gabriel was cut short by a scream of horror erupting from his throat. Raphael turned around to see Gabriel staring at the pair of white wings, stained with golden blood, lying on the ground. Raphael’s wings.

  
“No!” Gabriel screamed. “You can’t let him fall!”

“The Metatron has already decreed it. His fate is sealed.”

“Not him too!” Gabriel ran towards Raphael, who was attempting to scream, but all he could do was choke and splutter. “Please!” Gabriel cradled his brother in his arms. “Don’t do this..”

“G-Gabr-riel…” Hot tears dripped down onto Raphael’s face. Gabriel’s usually impeccable attire (A white tunic with a plain sash) was crumpled and torn as the other Archangels dragged him away screaming.    
“RAPHAEL!”

Soldier Angels descended from the sky and dragged Raphael away to the edge of the pit while he kicked and begged them to stop. He could feel the call of Lucifer. He could feel God’s love slipping away.

And then Raphael fell.

But he wasn’t the only one.

“NO!”

Gabriel ran to the edge and jumped off, wings spread out. His fingers brushed against 

Raphael’s own.

And the stars soared to the dark sky in mourning for their creator, and the night claimed them for its own, as the inky blackness summoned Raphael and Gabriel to its depths.

And the Heavens cried, its pain reflecting in God’s words of sorrow.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The stars are beautiful tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a long un'.
> 
> tw for quite graphic rape.  
also there is some (Consensual) smut

“No… No… Please stop… I don’t- stop! Please, I can’t, I can’t-”

“Try harder. For me,  _ Raphael. _ ”

Raphael’s gasps were short and desperate. Whether he was desperate for less or desparate for more, he didn’t know. He may not have wanted this, but his body did. Lucifer was blurring the lines between Raphael and Raphael’s form. He could tell it wasn’t long before the unwanted pleasure ripped through his body once again. Maybe Lucifer would be merciful, would allow Raphael to orgasm simply through penetration, which Raphael felt was less humiliating than being forced to orgasm either through Satan’s magic or through his huge fingers.

Of course, the latter option was chosen. The Devil was never merciful.

Panting from the force of unwanted pleasure, thighs splattered with liquid lust, Raphael fell to the floor and attempted to slip away on his hands and knees, selfishly hoping Lucifer would find another toy. His wish definitely wasn’t granted.

“What a disgusting little thing, crawling along the ground. I really have reached a new low by using you, you know?” 

Raphael nodded. What else was there to do?

“Maybe that’s what I’ll name you. Can’t call you Raphael anymore, of course.”

Raphael nodded. His name was too painful, too awful now. More than one part of him had been taken. Now Raphael was gone, with the stars that once shone on his skin. He could hear them still. Staring at him in horror, or maybe in silent judgement. What was the difference, really?

“There we go.” Satan whispered, turning the former Archangels head to face him “Are we happy now,  _ Crawly? _ ” 

  
Crowley sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the beauty of the London skyline. He still remembered those days, of course. How could he forget days where nothing was beautiful, where there was no light, where there was only sadness and darkness and despair, in the awful depths of Hell. 

Before he met Aziraphale.

He still remembered the night that came after the day they met, how Crowley sat in the Garden, tracing the patterns of stars on his neck like he always used to do when he was nervous. 

There were certain words he felt he couldn’t understand anymore after the Fall. “I Love You” were a few of them. Yet he still murmured them as he sat there, for once not looking at the stars but at the ground, the Earth that grounded him, protected him. The Earth where Aziraphale resided. 

He still remembered when he changed his name. After all, he’d been given his current one after being raped by his Boss, to put it in blunt terms. It didn’t have good connotations. Thankfully, the other Demons, who had all suffered similar, seemed to understand that. Even Aziraphale seemed to, at a certain level, though there was no way he could know.

Crowley gave a deep sigh and walked back into the room.  _ Aziraphales having nightmares again.  _ Crowley noticed sadly. He wanted nothing more than to comfort Aziraphale, but, in the true spirit of Crowley, he didn’t realize anyone, let alone Angels who hadn’t had a kip in 6000 years could be woken up. He could never wake up Warlock, and Crowley himself certainly wouldn’t rise for anything his conscious didn’t deem necessary, and Crowley assumed that that was because of his Demonic nature. 

  
So, Crowley sat, powerless, at the edge of the bed, face in hands. Mentally scolding himself for last night, the Demon wondered what he was going to do next.

His brain wasn’t working too well though. In fact, it had very near short-circuited. Last night, the moment Crowley had waited 6000 years for finally came. Aziraphale had confessed his love, and Crowley had confessed his. While he was having a mental breakdown.

Not exactly how Crowley imagined it, to be honest.

  
Without anything else to do, Crowley decided to do what he often did when in pain: Drink.

He knew it was an unhealthy coping mechanism, but what part of Crowley was healthy?   
  


When Aziraphale wandered out of the bedroom, hoping that Crowley was alright and hoping that he wouldn’t mind the jar of cocoa Aziraphale had miracled into the empty kitchen, he was quite surprised to find Crowley whispering to his plants.

“Crowley?! What are you doing?”

It was especially jarring, seeing as Aziraphale had miracled the plant’s back to where they came from last night, and now Crowley had brought them back.

  
Crowley turned around and blushed as he set eyes on the Angel, before he turned back to the plants and whispered one last thing to them before they disappeared from the flat.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale whispered cautiously as the Demon stood up to face Aziraphale.

“Just… Just saying goodbye.” He said, his voice hoarse. 

“Oh, Crowley…” 

The Demon rushed forward to hug Aziraphale, tears staining the sleeve of the Aziraphale’s jacket where Crowley had buried his face. “I’m sorry.”

  
  


After a long talk, an Angel and a Demon settled in a small rare bookshop in Soho.

The Angel stood in the small kitchenette, mixing spoonfuls of nescafe into two mugs of hot water. The Demon browsed the shelves of the bookshop, taking care not to lay hands on the multitude of misprinted Bibles scattered across the shelves. 

  
Aziraphale now knew for a fact the true heavenly origin of Crowley, and Crowley now knew for sure Aziraphale loved him. However, neither had done anything about this situation. Aziraphale didn’t question Crowley, seeking answers about his past, nor did he refer to him by his first name. Crowley, for once in his life, didn’t ask questions.  _ When did you fall for me? How long have you known? _

They had both imagined it. They imagined accidental confessions, cried out in a fit of passion, they imagined soulful dinners where they held hands and looked deep into each others eyes.

But now it had happened, finally. And Crowley needed to do something about it.

Eventually the two sat on the sofa, making idle small talk while sipping coffee, since Aziraphale had insisted that alcohol would only make things worse. He was right, of course, but Crowley didn’t appreciate it. One of his favourite things was getting shit-faced on hundred year old chardonnay with his Angel. He doubted Aziraphale would appreciate the compliment. At least not while sober.

Crowley was shocked out of his daydream by a warm hand touching his face, and another gently removing his glasses. Aziraphale smiled a lopsided smile as he stared deeply into snake-like eyes. A deep blush covered the Angel’s face.

“You are beautiful, you know?”

Crowley shuddered, his heart giving a little jump. Humans had called him beautiful before, but none of those compliments really mattered to Crowley. But Aziraphale…

Crowley gently leaned his head forward, their noses pressed together in the beauty of something that lasted forever. Love.

Their lips clashed together. Years of waiting and wanting left them starving for each others touch. Crowley hated having sex. He never really wanted to, and it reminded him of memories he wished he could forget. But whenever he imagined him and Aziraphale together, the full force of his arousal reared its head every time, leaving Crowley with a thousand beautiful moments.

Now they were here, and Crowley couldn’t help but shudder and gasp into Aziraphale’s lips as he grinded against the Angels leg, while their tongues fought for dominance. Eventually, Crowley pulled back.

“Angel, I-I-”

“It’s okay. I’ve got you, Crowley.” Aziraphale whispered as he undid Crowley’s trousers. “You’re alright.” 

Crowley’s erection sprang free, and he gasped as Aziraphale took it in his hand.

“There we go,” He murmured as he began pumping, relishing in Crowley’s moans, his own hardness pushing against Aziraphale’s trousers, leaving a growing damp spot.   
  


Crowley, noticing this, sat up and miracled Aziraphale’s clothes off. Crowley kissed Aziraphale once again, before they parted.

“Crowley…” Aziraphale said desperately. “How do you want me?”

Crowley thought about it. It wouldn’t do to let Aziraphale fuck him; In the end, rowley still shuddered at the very thought of being pentrated.

“Would you mind if I, well, fuck you…”

“I knew you were gonna say that.” Aziraphale laughed. “I’m completely okay with that! Just, go slow. I’m still a virgin.”

Crowley gasped. All these years, and Aziraphale hadn’t had sex? He knew that Aziraphale was far from pure. He’d joined the Hundred Guineas Club, and Crowley had often heard talk of Mr Fell, and how he’d entertained Mr Smythe last night, and all that. Crowley had even heard a rumour back in Rome that Aziraphale liked playing at being a rent boy, which entertained him for days in private, if Crowley was being truthful.

  
“Of course I know how it works, I have had sex before, but I’ve never been on the recieving end of things…”

Crowley shook himself. He could see Aziraphale was scared. He sort of saw himself in that fear. At least, he saw the person he used to be. That person didn’t have the privilege of a consensual first time with the one he loved. Crowley was determined to give all that he never had to Aziraphale. He would make it good for him.

Crowley summoned a bottle of lube, and liberally covered his fingers in the substance while Aziraphale squirmed beneath him.

“Just tell me if you want me to stop, okay Love?”

Aziraphale nodded. “Please I… I need it, Crowley!”

Crowley put a finger to Aziraphale’s lips, and slowly eased another one into him.

Crowley nearly came on the spot feeling how tight Aziraphale was, and hearing the little gasp that escaped from the Angels mouth.

“It feels… It feels weird, Crowley. Not like I thought it would.”

“Don’t worry Angel. It’ll get better, I promise.”

Crowley added another finger and Aziraphale let out a ragged breath.

“Does it hurt?”

“A-a bit.”

Crowley experimentally crooked his fingers and hit Aziraphale’s prostate, causing the former Principality to buck his hips in shock.

“Oh Crowley, do that again, please!”

Crowley chuckled, adding another finger and scissoring his Angel out. “Does it feel good?”

Aziraphale moaned. “Crowley…”

“It’s alright. I’ve got you.”

“Crowley, please God, please fuck me…”

Crowley grinned and kissed the Angels hand. “With pleasure.”

Crowley pulled out, savouring the gasp from his beloved. He stood up and gave himself a few slow pumps, shivering from the sensation. He lined himself up with Aziraphale’s entrance and slowly pushed in, savouring the tight heat and the moans he had elicited from his Angel.

Crowley nearly completely pulled out, before thrusting back in.   
  
“Oh my somebody, you’re-you’re so tight, Aziraphale.”

He began thrusting harder, fucking Aziraphale roughly, pressing against Aziraphale’s prostate without fail. Aziraphale could only sit there and mewl, his chest rising and falling quickly.

Seeking an anchor to the world, Crowley buried his head in the crook of Aziraphale’s neck, leaving love bites all across it, while Aziraphale let out a litany of “Harder”’s and “Faster”’s.

Eventually, Crowley reached down and began pumping Aziraphale once again.

  
“Oh, Crowley, It’s too good, oh God, oh somebody, oh!”

“There we go, Angel.” Whispered Crowley, who could tell Aziraphale was close. “Cum for me, my love.”

Aziraphale came with a cry, thick white ropes of ejaculate spilling onto their chests.

Meanwhile, Crowley’s thrusts got deeper and more irregular as he milked Aziraphale through his orgasm, culminating in a loud shut as Crowley came inside Aziraphale.

About five minutes later, all evidence of Aziraphale and Crowley’s sin was miracled away, and the two were lying on Aziraphale’s sofa. Aziraphale rested his hand on Crowley’s skinny chest, cuddling his much more rotund body against his love.

“Aziraphale?”

“Yes, my darling?”

“Was it good for you?”

Aziraphale laughed and lightly slapped Crowley’s stomach.

“Of course it was! It was possibly the best thing I’ve ever done.”

“Hm.”

The two gazed into each others eyes. Inside were scorched deserts, and beautiful sunsets. Cool oasis’s and the pale blue morning sky. It was Ineffable, inconceivable. Gorgeous. It was life itself.

And so the mirrors reflected love, joy, and happiness. And so the mirrors turned to a deep emptiness, coiling and tarnishing two souls. And so it turned to Heaven, and so it turned to Hell.

Gabriel was tired of waiting.

He’d waited for Armageddon. He’d waited so he could destroy the last remnants of the love that he could never have again.

The stars were beautiful, as they always were. Beautiful stars. In the end, they only brought him pain.

It was painful, seeing zzem again after all these years. It was painful, knowing that one day, zzey would die at his hand. The Angel he once loved.

  
Gabriel touched a hand to his heart as the lift binged.  _ Hesparus. _

And he turned his back on the stars.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'll turn my back on the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for mentions of rape and violence.

If there is one thing Gabriel hates, it’s breaking promises.

6000 years ago, he promised to meet Raphael and Hesparus on Earth, even though they fell.

6000 years ago, he broke that promise.

When he met Hesparus again, or at least met the Demon zzey’d become at Tadfield Airbase, he nearly discorparated. 

Zzey had gotten shorter and squatter over the years. Zzeir hair was greasy, dirty, and messy. Zzey wore ugly clothes that were splattered with unidentifiable substances. Zzeir face was covered in boils and sores.

Lord Almighty, Zzey were  _ beautiful.  _

He knew it was sinful to have these thoughts. Zzey weren’t Hesparus anymore. Zzey were Beelzebub, Prince of Hell.

“Sir?”

One of the servants were tapping Gabriel’s shoulder in terror. “Lord Beelzebub will see you now, Sir.”

Gabriel sighed, plastered his normal wide, false smile on his face, and turned to the lower ranking Angel.

“Thank you. Would you go and tell Michael that I’ll be here awhile?”

_ How do I stand them. _

Gabriel caught his breath as Beelzebub stalked into the room.

  
Zzey didn’t look much different to how zzey looked on Earth, except a giant fly was situated on top of zzeir head.

‘Disgusting. Reprehensible. I’m only working with zzem for the good of Heaven.’

_ You could take zzem right now. Zzey’d come with you. You’d be together again. _

“Ah, Beelzebub. It’s always such a pleasure-”

“Cut the niceties, golden boy.” Beelzebub snarled, a look of extreme annoyance seemingly permanently etched on zzeir face.

‘Keep in your hurt. You shouldn’t be hurt.’

“Ah yes. Let’s get down to business, shall we?”

“I only have one  _ business  _ with you, golden boy! You still haven’t captured the Threats!”

Gabriel was annoyed with that sentence for two reasons. One: The glaring flaw in grammar. Two: Gabriel really was trying hard to eliminate Aziraphale, or, as everyone in Heaven knew him: The Rebel.

  
“Well, have you done anything about Crowley?”

Beelzebub blushed furiously.

_ A night among the stars. _

“We’re formulating a plan, golden boy. That’s all you need to know.”

_ Hesparus, just another worker, was there standing beside the Archangel fucking Gabriel, of all the Angels in Heaven. _

“Ah, well, how do you know we’re not forming a plan?”

_ Ironically, Hesparus was the one leading the proceedings. Zzeir heart beating fast, zzey turned to face Gabriel. _

Beelzebub stood there for a moment. “Just get on with it, golden boy.”

_ They touched hands, as their souls exploded into fireworks. Together they floated in non-existence, and the only thing that existed was each other. _

“Are the Hellish hordes tiring of waiting for their prize already?”

_ Together, their power combined, Gabriel and Hesparus felt things no one could ever truly convey. _

Beelzebub shuddered. Gabriel blinked for a moment, sensing weakness. Sensing the one he used to know.

_ Together they were eternal. Inevitable. _

“I wouldn’t wish what those Demons could do on my worst enemy. Zzey said in a small voice. “Never again…”

_ And yet, they weren’t Ineffable. _

A chill ran through Gabriels body. “What… What do you mean?”

_ And yet, zzey were torn from his arms, kicking and screaming. _

But Beelzebub was already gone.

  
Gabriel slowly snapped his fingers, teleporting himself to the Barracks.

“Aziraphale. Find the rogue Angel Aziraphale. Do whatever you have to, just keep him alive. If you can capture the Demon Crawly, all of you get a bonus.”

_ I’ll wait forever if you just come back to me. I still love you so. _

  
  


It was a beautiful day on Earth. Ironically, it reminded Aziraphale and Crowley of the day they first met.

  
The days may have been nice, but all the days after that were  _ wonderful. _

It was nice just relaxing and catching up with the people who stopped the Apocalypse.

Newt had just come out as Trans, Anathama had got a new job at the post office, and Sergeant Shadwell and Madame Tracy had finished moving into a small rundown cottage near the edge of the village. As for The Them, things seemed to be going well.

Adam was a bit of a different story.

“Somethings changed.” He said as soon as he was alone with Aziraphale and Crowley. “Somethings going on in Hell.”

Aziraphale and Crowley stared at each other, worried.

“Still got your powers, then?” Said Crowley eventually.

“Yup. Tried to get rid of ‘em, but y’know. I can use ‘em for good anyway you know. When the Big One happens.”

Aziraphale nodded sagely. He couldn’t help but feel that Heaven and Hell were already preparing. They needed a plan, and they needed one fast.

  
“So, what do we do about it?”

Crowley shrugged helpfully. “You still got that flaming sword, then?”

Aziraphale nodded. “So, we just fight?”

“Well, I was hoping-”

“Sounds good to me.”

Anger was not a thing that often appeared on the person of the Angel Aziraphale, but no one could deny that the Angel looked furious. In truth, Aziraphale was. Thinking about all the things Heaven and Hell had done to them, to Earth, how they could’ve been together... 

  
It was obvious Crowley was thinking the same thing.   
“It’s okay, Angel. We’re together now, and that’s all that matters.”

Adam raised his eyebrows a bit, but said nothing.

“Well, I’ll help however I can without, well, losin’ control. But I dunno what we’re gonna do about all the people an’ animals.”

Aziraphale bowed his head. “There will be many casualties, Adam. There always is in a War.”

Crowley sighed. “We’ll do the best we can to keep them safe, but there’s no guarantee that the Earth itself will survive, let alone the majority of the population.”

“Well, surely you can send ‘evryone to the moon, give ‘em oxygen while their there?” 

Aziraphale shook his head. “That miracle would take up most of our power, Adam. I’m sorry, but everyone’s staying on Earth.”

  
Adam sighed. “Better find a way to protect them, then.”

“Of course, that will be our top priority.”

Crowley watched the exchange with interest. Given Aziraphale had once tried to kill Adam, he and the boy were getting along pretty well.

But a niggling fear festered at the back of his mind. Everytime he had tried to defy Hell, awful things happened to him. He was beaten, raped, hung over the void in bits and pieces…

He wasn’t always in Hell’s good books, not that they had any. In the end, it had always been him getting ready to face off against his fellow Demons.

“We need more Holy Water.” Crowley said suddenly. “Incapacitate the Demons.”

“Yes, and some Hellfire for the Angels…”   
Neither sounded that enthusiastic. It was obvious they didn’t want to hurt people.   
Adam felt sorry for the strange couple. When he stared into their souls, he saw pain beyond anything he’d ever felt in anyone before. And he sensed that the worst was yet to come.

Around them, the forest exploded.

  
  


Gabriel couldn’t help coming with the soldiers. In order to oversee the capture of Aziraphale, of course. Definitely not because Beelzebub was also going to be there. No, that would be sinful.

It was the perfect mission. Aziraphale and Crawly were together, with the  _ Antichrist, _ no less. Brilliant. Gabriel would give a prayer of thanks, but apparently the Lord was not meant to be disturbed at that time.

The soldiers were in position Gabriel was about to give the signal. He could hear the traitor’s conversation.

“In the end, it’s all the same, really. We’re together, trying to save the world. And we’ll succeed, I know we will, love.” Aziraphale said confidently. The words sent a knife through Gabriel’s heart. 

He remembered when he was that optimistic. He remembered when he thought he and Hesparus would last forever.

He stared over at Beelzebub. Zzey were staring down at the earth, face grim, eyes sad. In the end, maybe zzey felt just like Gabriel did.

Their eyes met. Purple flames danced with grey pools. 

_ The World was once ours. _

_ That was what he thought as he stared down at Hesparus, falling into the darkness. Come back to me. Be mine again. I still love you. I’ll never forget you, I promise. I promise. _

_ I’ll turn my back on the stars. _


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know you  
I could tell you were so new  
I wanted to guide you through the night sky  
I still want it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: Rape tw: Violence

Who was he?

It was a question Crowley had asked himself many times.

Was he Raphael, one of the Four Archangels, creator of the stars?

Was he Crawly, plaything of Satan, the weak-willed Demon who sustained his sanity with a forbidden promise?

Was he Crowley, The Serpent of Eden, scourge of Earth?

Or was he Crowley, Rebel Demon, lover of Humanity, friend/lover of Aziraphale, Angel of the Eastern Gate?

Who was he?

“Children of God.”

The voice sent shivers up his spine.  _ Gabriel. _

“Heed my words, for today, a great battle will be fought.”

Crowley stared down at himself, and if he had any control over his body, would have jumped from the shock of inhabiting Aziraphale’s form once again.

He recognised the body, how could he not? For years, he had sat beside that body, dined with it’s inhabitant. For years, he had imagined hugging it, kissing it, taking it, loving it, worshipping it.

It was quite… different from how Crowley knew it. For one, it was lean, thin, muscular, just like when he and Aziraphale first met, before all the deserts. It was quite a shame really. Crowley loved those curves, those love handles. They were an integral and beloved part of Aziraphale. This felt… wrong.

Crowley felt himself slipping away into Aziraphale, as he often had, but this time it was more literal. His consciousness yielded, and faded away.

“Today, we-” Gabriel was cut off by a short scream. For a moment, all was calm, all was quiet.

And then the room exploded into chaos.

Thousands of Demons streamed into the room, screaming out battlecries, holding vials of Hellfire that they threw around the room.

All of Aziraphale’s instincts screamed run, but he had to fight. It was his purpose, his reason for existence.

Aziraphale lifted his flaming sword, and ran into battle.

The scent of death filled the battlefield.

The cries of the dying and the wounded echoed around the sullied halls of Heaven.

And Aziraphale stood alone.

He lay in a ditch, sobbing in the horror of what he’d done.

Everywhere he turned, all there was was death and decay.

_ You’ve done this. _

He was breaking down, taking shallow, panicked breaths, the acrid air burning every inch of his being. He prayed and he prayed, but no one answered. The voices of Death whispered to him.  _ On the last day, we shall meet again. He won’t keep you safe, even if you run to him. He’ll leave you when you need him the most. _

“LEAVE ME ALONE!”

“I hope you’re not talking to me, Aziraphale.”

The Angel turned around, sword drawn, and nearly chopped off the nose of the Archangel Gabriel.

A flurry of emotions ran through Aziraphale’s head. No, it was  _ Crowley’s  _ head now.

Gabriel. Bittersweet memories came with the name. Memories of someone kind, of someone good, of someone who may as well have fallen too, leaving behind the shell of an Angel he had become.

  
“G-Gabriel-”

Crowley sobbed silently in the realization he couldn’t control Aziraphale’s body. He fell into the arms of the man who betrayed him.

“It’s okay, Aziraphale. You were the only one who survived.” Gabriel said it cheerfully enough but the corners of his trademark smile twitched, and his eyes shone with tears.”That affords you great honours, you know.”   
Aziraphale cried out in pain, every bone in his body aching, every muscle tensing. “I-”

“A Principality maybe? We have a vacancy, you know.”   
  
Aziraphale could barely even move, and Gabriel had the good sense to bring Aziraphale back to headquarters.

But obviously the Demons weren’t done with Aziraphale yet. 

One of their number was staring at him with piercing amber eyes, the pupils snake-like. Flaming red hair surrounded his head like a halo. (Ironically.)

Aziraphale just stared.  _ No more bloodshed. I don’t care if he kills us. No more. _

However, the Demon just… stood there. Those serpentine eyes stared at him through the darkness.

_ What is he doing? _

Aziraphale feebly tried to alert Gabriel, but found he couldn’t move. Had the Demon done this? Or was it just Aziraphale’s own exhaustion?

The Demon eventually turned away from him, the eyes that provided the faintest of glows disappearing into darkness, leaving a ghost of a smile behind them.

Aziraphale could only wonder what just happened as he looked up at the stars.

  
  
  


Aziraphale awoke with a start. Pain coursed through his veins, and panic ran through his mind.

Where was he?

Aziraphale stole a glance around the room. It was large, dark and gloomy, and had a permanent scent of evil that reverberated around the room.

_ Hell. _

Aziraphale desperately attempted to move, only to find he was bound by unholy magic.

He screamed out for Crowley, desperate to be freed, only to be met with silence.

Panic ran through him as possibilities ran through his mind. What if Crowley was being tortured?

Oh God, what if he was  _ dead? _

He was sure Crowley was here with him. His fuzzy recollection of the events that landed him in this place confirmed it. 

  
“Crowley! Please, if you can hear me, answer me! Crowley!”

“Oh, he can’t hear you now,  _ Angel. _ ”

  
Aziraphale whirled his head around, and was met with pitch black eyes, and the unmistakable stench of amphibian. Aziraphale locked eyes with Hastur, who gave him a grin, showing off disgusting teeth stained with the remnants of dead insects. The mockery of Hastur’s use of Crowley’s nickname sent anger and adrenaline through Aziraphale’s veins.

“Let me go, you foul thing! You know you cannot kill me!”

Hastur let out a cruel bark of laughter. “Oh, we know. But that doesn’t mean we can’t have fun with you.”

Angels streamed into the room silently, gleaming white uniforms contrasting against the darkness. Aziraphale’s heart rate quickened as Hastur stroked his face with a dirty thumb.

  
“You  _ wouldn’t. _ ” Aziraphale spat, his tone masking his fear. “You have no right.”

“Of course we do. After all, you wanton little Angel, if Crawly can have you, so can we.”

“I-I don’t- It’s different!”

  
By now tears were forming in Aziraphale’s eyes. He could hear the laughter of the Angels as they revelled in his weakness.

“You’ll be good for us, won’t you, Angel? You’ll be a good little fucktoy, hmmm?”

Aziraphale sobbed. He struggled against his bonds, but he knew it was pointless. He was going to be defiled by these Angels, if one could even call them that. He cried out as Hastur nibbled his ear, praying for the Almighty to save him.

“Angel?”  _ Crowley. _ Oh thank fuck, it was Crowley.

He was tied with Heavenly bonds, and he sat in a chair he looked in horror at the scene before him, his head swiveling back and forth before meeting Aziraphale’s eyes.

_ “ANGEL!” _ Crowley cried desperately. “ANGEL, I-”

“Shut up,  _ Crawly _ , or we’ll gag you.”   
  
Aziraphale cried out with unwanted pleasure as Hastur pressed into his crotch, inflaming his senses.

“No, please, take me instead, you know I’m used to it Hastur, do whatever you want with me, I won’t fight, just-”

  
“SHUT UP!” Hastur bellowed as the Angels moved forward, their efforts obvious against the tightness of their uniforms. “Just sit back and enjoy the show, Crawly. This Angels gonna be our little office slut once we make him fall. You can use him whenever you want.”

“No, no, no…” All Crowley could do was sob in horror. Aziraphale wanted so badly to comfort Crowley, to assure him it would be alright, that he’d enjoy it eventually. But he was cut off by one of the Angels pushing into his mouth. Aziraphale gagged around them, and sobbed as he was defiled.

  
  


After an eternity, it was over. 

The Angels lost interest in their new toy. Hastur had to get back to work.

And Aziraphale was left shuddering on the ground, letting out tiny sobs in his haze.

And Crowley, who had long since stopped screaming, could only sit there.

_ It’s alright, little one. I know you’re scared. _

_ I… I don’t belong here… there has to be a way- _

_ You don’t need a way. All you need is me now. _

_ But- _

_ She rejected you, remember? Tossed you out with all the other broken Angels. But I can fix you. _

_ Wh-what are you doing? _

_ Shhhhhhh, it’s alright, Raphael. I’ll take good care of you, little one. _

_ Wait, stop! Don’t do that! _

_ Don’t worry little one. I’m gonna fix you. _

_ STOP IT! Please… _

_ There we go… _

_ It-it hurts…  _

_ I know. Don’t worry, I’ll help, little one. _

_ A-ah! _

_ There we are… _

_ STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! _

_ Shhh, little one. It’s alright, Cr- _

“CROWLEY!”

The Demons eyes snapped open. In front of him stood The Prince of Hell.

Crowley sniffed, attempting desperately to pull himself together. He glowered at the small figure, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Fuck off, Beelzebub. Haven’t you done enou-”

  
Crowley stopped short as he stared into his bosses eyes. They were filled with tears that cascaded down zzeir boil ravaged skin. The sight alone was nearly enough to make Crowley discorporate. The last time he had seen Beelzebub cry…

_ PLEASE! NOT AGAIN! I’LL DO ANYTHING! RAPHAEL! GABRIEL! HELP ME, PLEASE… _

“You didn’t want this.”

Beelzebub wiped the tears from zzeir eyes, and turned around to look at Aziraphale. “That bastard… I told him to bring you to me and Gabriel. He’ll pay for this…”

Crowley realised with a start zzey were talking about Hastur.

  
“So, I gather Aziraphale’s not gonna be your “office slut” then?” Crowley sobbed out, a broken grin painting itself on his face.

“Of course not, you fool. Why would I want that after everything that…”

_ After everything Lucifer did to us. _

“Do you remember?”

Beelzebub whirled around to face Crowley. “Remember what?”

“The stars.”

Beelzebub took a deep breath. Zzeir eyes fluttered open and closed, as if zzey were trying desperately to escape reality.

“Crowley-”

“Not Crowley.” He choked out, even though it hurt. God, it hurt. “Remember when we were more?”

“I was not  _ more, _ I was a nameless, faceless-”

  
“You were more to him.”

“Don’t-”

  
“You need to remember.”

“I don’t need to do anything.”

“Please, just listen-”

“NO!”

“Please, Hesparus, I-”

A sharp crack sounded through the room as Beelzebub slapped Crowley, followed by sobs.

Beelzebub cried out in pain as zzey collapsed on the ground, hugging zzemself.

Crowley’s bonds fell onto the ground with a clang, the Heavenly magic absorbed into the deafening silence that surrounded The Prince of Hell. Crowley immediately ran to Aziraphale, placing a hand on his Angels forehead. God, he was burning up. 

Aziraphale couldn’t die. Crowley was broken by the fall. He lost everything, and then even more than that was taken away. But when Crowley came to Earth, hoping to return to the past, instead he found the future.

Aziraphale had fixed him. And now he was broken.

“Do you remember the 14th century, Hesparus?”

Another sob reverberated around the chamber.

“I refused to take responsibility for the Black Death.” Crowley laughed bitterly, gently squeezing his Angels hand.

“My consciousness was split into pieces and hung up above The Pit of The Eternal Abyss.

I was alone. Tortured. Faced with my worst fears. I had already been broken, Hesparus. Over and over again. I should have doomed myself, jumped in. I should have met my end, Hesparus. But I didn’t. Do you know why?”

Silence.

  
“Because I  _ loved,  _ Hesparus. Because I had been fixed by love. Because, even though I was a Demon, the impossible had happened. I fell in love with this Angel. I could never take back the Heavenly Light I had lost, could never win Her back, but yet my fear was transformed. And so, when I stared into the Pit, I saw him. I saw him, and I loved him, and I remembered why I lived, why life was worth living. I remembered how it felt to be  _ alive, _ Hesparus. Even though I was the closest to sin a being could ever be, I was with God in those moments, because God lives inside love.”

“So, Beelzebub, I was wondering, if you were hung over the Pit, what would you see? Would you chase your death? Or would you see him? Would you see Gabriel?”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Ineffable game of choices.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'll defy everything I've ever known,  
I don't care if I fall from my throne  
A second time  
I'll do it for you, for you...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major angst and rape aftermath lies ahead. abandon hope all ye who enter here.

Aziraphale could not move, nor speak, nor scream.

He could not do anything but  _ feel. _

Feel them pressing in, taking him in the worst possible way.

Feel them hitting and kicking.

And then feel himself falling.

Falling, falling, falling…

“RAPHAEL!”

He jerked his head up. Above him was an Angel, flying towards him desperately. “RAPHAEL!”

It was Gabriel.

“G-Gabe-”

Gabriel caught Raphael, and pressed his brothers body against his own. However, he could not stop their ascent, could not stop them hurtling towards the ground like a comet.

Both of them screamed in harmony as Raphael’s familiar features burned away. His bright eyes that glowed yellow like the stars turned dim. His features grew angular, shallow. And the most striking difference was that the stars that burned in the night sky no longer shone on the skin of their creator. However, their cries of loneliness could still be heard above the whistling wind.

“Gabriel, let go! You can’t fall!”

“No! Raphael, you and Hesparus are all I have now! There’s nothing for me in Heaven without you!”

“Gabriel, please!”

Glowing purple met dull amber. A pure soul met a tarnished one.

“We’ll meet again. When the Almighty creates Earth, we’ll-we’ll meet there.”

  
“What?”

“You, and me, and Hesparus! We’ll-”

“But what if Lucifer wins the war?”

“I won’t let that happen!”

Gabriel sobbed. “Raphael, I-”

  
“You know you can’t save me, Gabe.”

For a moment, all was calm as Raphael smiled.

“But you can promise me this. Please.”

“I-” Gabriel choked on his words “I promise.”

And Gabriel let go.

  
  


Aziraphale woke to a peculiar buzzing sound.

Every part of him ached, but his first instinct was to check on Crowley.

Oh God. Crowley had to watch the whole time it was happening. After everything that had happened to him… 

Why couldn’t Aziraphale just be strong for once? Why couldn’t he protect himself? Why couldn’t he protect Crowley?

Aziraphale tried to move his head, but was met with a flash of pain that ran through every part of him. Why did he have to be so Goddamn useless?

“Shhhh, Angel. I know it hurts.”

_ Crowley. _

“Cr-Crow-”

Aziraphale’s jaw ached. He nearly began crying at the reason why, but for now he needed to let Crowley know he was alright.

Aziraphale took a deep, hungry breath and tried to steady his voice. “O-okay.”

Finally, Aziraphale’s vision cleared enough so that he could see Crowley. His love looked a mess, wrists burned by Holy energy, clothes dirty and in tatters, hair messy, face stained with tears, eyes red and puffy, mouth curved into an image of such devastation Aziraphale thought Crowley might never smile again. 

“I love you.” Aziraphale mutter as Crowley brought his hand to his lips. “S-so much.”

Crowley’s tears dripped down onto Aziraphale’s body.

“I love you too, my perfect Angel.”

  
  


Crowley was quite a lucky Demon sometimes.

After all, if he was Human, he wouldn’t have the strength to carry his unconscious lover through the dark rooms of Crowley’s former workplace.

Every now and again, Aziraphale let out tiny whimpers and wriggled around a bit. It was all Crowley could do to not break down and cry.

He’d cleaned Aziraphale up the best he could, removed the ejaculate of those disgusting, reprehensible Angels, and managed the strength to miracle Aziraphale’s clothes fixed and redressed him.   
  
Now they were trudging through the basement of Hell, and Crowley only wished he had the fucking strength to blast those Angels into dust. 

He wished he had the fucking strength to do a lot of things.

  
  
  


Was this what it felt like to be mortal?

Completely and utterly helpless?

Zzey didn’t get it. After everything, zzey still missed him.

After everything, zzey still loved him.

For years, zzey’d secretly hoped and fucking wished to have the opportunity Crowley did.

To be hung over The Pit, so close to escaping the darkness.

The Pit is a true testament to a Demons strength. If one could resist jumping in, giving up…

They were regarded as truly strong.

Beelzebub didn’t want to escape.

  
  
  
  


The Angels rushed down in ranks, some flying down to Earth, some going even further, to Hell, to find the escapees.

Gabriel thought back to what Beelzebub said.  _ You have no idea what they can do. _

Oh, but he knew enough about Demons to put two and two together.

He had been here for God knows how long, muttering to himself, trying to banish the thoughts from his mind.

_ Demons only deserve to be crushed under the heel of The Almighty. Demons are worthless. Demons are the Enemy. Demons must be destroyed by any means necessary.  _

The Metatron whispered in his mind.  _ She is everything, Gabriel.  _ ** _I_ ** _ am everything. Nothing else matters. _

_ No one else matters. _

“Not even me?” He’d once asked The Almighty. “Not even Raphael? Not even Hesparus?”

  
** _Of course you matter, sweet Gabriel. Why wouldn’t you?_ **

“But the Fallen-”

The Almighty had cut him off. Despite the fact She didn’t have a Form that could express emotions currently, Gabriel could sense Her sadness, the forlorn energy radiating off The Lord.

Gabriel activated his radio. 

  
“Alpha 5?”

“Yes, Sir?”

“I want all your units searching for the escapees in Hell.”

An audible choking sound was heard. “Our  _ whole _ unit? Are you sure, Sir?”

“I said do it, sunshine.” Gabriel snarled, his voice reverberating off the walls. “Bring me the Demon Crawly and the Rebel Aziraphale by tomorrow or you’re bonus this year will be an inside tour of the Ninth Circle of Hell, do you understand?” 

Silence.

“Yes, Sir. Understood,”

The radio went silent.

It was all coming together. 

If only…

The crinkle of Raphael’s eyes. The mischief in his smile. The brightness of his eyes.

How he walked, talked, created, loved…

A silent tear traced Gabriel’ cheek.

“I miss you, Brother. So, so much…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do I tell someone I'm not sure exists anymore I miss them?


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: Rape, violence, blood, derogatory language.

“Shut your stupid mouth, and die already!”

_ What happened to you? _

_ You’re not the Angel I remember. _

_ You’re not Gabriel. _

_ He wouldn’t do this. _

All Crowley ever wanted before Aziraphale was to see Gabriel again.

Yet, when the time came, he didn’t arrive.

Crowley searched all over. 

He spent the better part of the first thousand years of the Universe's existence searching for him, because Gabriel never broke promises. Ever.

Yet, when they did finally meet again, Gabriel was trying to destroy the planet Crowley loved most in the world.

He at least expected Gabriel to be sad about it. Maybe Crowley could change his mind, get Gabriel on their side. But no. The next time they met, he tried to kill the one person in the world that made Crowley’s life worth living.

He’d asked Aziraphale countless questions about Gabriel and Uriel and the others.

_ “So, your boss is Gabriel, huh? He’s obviously doing a good job, right, keeping me in check?” _

_ “Oh, yeah, Uriel. Not very talkative, is she? Huh.” _

_ “Sandalphon? Hmmm, yes he definitely wouldn’t like that. Don’t know what Sodom was thinking.” _

He still cared about his first family, even though he hated it. 

Crowley was still stumbling through Hell. He could tell the two of them were getting close to escaping.  _ Too _ close. Crowley thought that there’d be a battle, at the very least. Hell wouldn’t let their new toy escape that easily.

  
Crowley choked back a sob. He could barely process what had just happened. He could barely think at all. All he could hope was that he could make Aziraphale forget somehow. Remove his memories of the incident, destroy them. He’d do it if he had too.

“Destroy his memories, Crawly? HA! You couldn’t destroy anything even if you tried.”

Shit. Sandalphon. Even when Crowley was Raphael, he’d never liked the guy. Sandalphon had always been a sadistic bastard, though he hid it well. He acted like the Archangels jailer. 

Crowley turned around, hardening his features as he stared the Archangel down in the dim light.

He noticed with a start that Uriel was with him too, looking very frightened. It was obvious she didn’t want to be there.

“Sandalphon. Shouldn’t you be busy smiting revellers, or something? Destroying the participants of orgys, perhaps?”

Sandalphon laughed. A cruel, hollow sound. “Oh, you’d know all about orgys,  _ Crawly. _ Perhaps next time our guys have their way with that cute little rebel, you can join in, hmmmm? Have a bit of fun with your boyfriend?”

Crowley took a deep, shaky breath. “You son of a bitch-”

“The only bitch here is that gorgeous little treat in your arms. Of course you want it all for yourself,  _ Demon. _ Greed is a sin, you know.”

Crowley decided to bide his time, scan the room in order to find a good escape route. Biting back his anger, Crowley spoke. “He’s not yours, Sandalphon. Not mine either. You-”

“Oh, don’t worry, Crawly. I can see how badly you want it. You want to serve us too.”

Sandalphon moved closer, until his nose was nearly touching Crowley’s.  _ Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.  _ Calm down. You can’t lose control now.

“Your just a bitch in heat. And I know  _ exactly  _ what a bitch in heat needs.”

The moment Sandalphon’s hand reached Crowley’s crotch, Crowley lost it.

He could feel the power building inside of him, reaching its peak faster and faster with each shout of rage as Crowley knocked Sandalphon back, pommeling him with his fists, kicking in a blind rage.

He barely registered Uriel’s attempts to apprehend him. He was lost in the feeling of anger, pure hatred for the Angel he used to consider part of his family. 

Eventually, Sandalphon’s breathing ceased, and Crowley could feel Sandalphon’s soul ascending to Heaven.

Ironic. Humans assumed only good people got to Heaven. But in reality, Heaven could spawn the worst people in all of creation.

Crowley turned around to check on Aziraphale, only to find Uriel kneeling on the floor, staring up at Crowley in terror. “Please, please don’t discorporate me, please…” Crowley scowled. “Why shouldn’t I, you fucking-”

“They said they’d kill me if I got discorporated! I know your a Demon, but you can’t, you can’t just-” Uriel dissolved into tears as she raked perfectly manicured fingernails over her face. At once, all of Crowley’s anger and resentment dissipated. 

_ “Raphael, I know you said that The Almighty has no sense of humour, but you were wrong!” _

_ Raphael smiled at the younger Archangel, who was bouncing up and down in excitement. _

_ “Oh, really? How so?” _

_ Uriel giggled before passing Raphael a strange, dry object. The Angel stared at it for a second. “What is this?” _

_ “A Bone! They are basically rods that hold up the bodies of all the creatures, and allow them to move and do stuff!” _

_ Raphael chuckled. “That’s cool, but what part about it is funny?” _

_ “Because…” Uriel said excitedly. “Because it is a Dinosaur bone! They are creatures that are never actually gonna exist! The Almighty is just putting the bones there as a joke, cause She says one day people are gonna find the bones and think they belonged to these huge creatures that didn’t actually exist, for, like, 200 years!” _

_ Raphael laughed. “I guess I misjudged Her.” _

_ “Yeah. The Almighty said you’re good at misjudging people, and that you’re especially good at misjudging Her Plan, or whatever.” _ _   
_ _ Raphael frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?” _

_ But Uriel had already moved on, her small form dancing among the stars as she told everyone who would listen about the Dinosaurs, and how clever and humorous The Almighty is, while Raphael couldn’t help thinking it didn’t sound that clever to him. _

“Uriel.”

The Angel looked up, staring Crowley in the eyes. “It’s alright. Your alright.” Crowley whispered, cradling Uriel’s face in his hand. Uriel stared at him in fear. Crowley laughed bitterly. “I guess you were right. I  _ am _ pretty good at misjudging Her. Why would I be here otherwise?”

Uriel’s eyes opened wide in realization. “Wait. You can’t… Raphael?”

Too late, Uriel spotted the Angels gathering around Aziraphale.

“RAPHAEL!”

Crowley turned around, only to get pushed to the ground. A boot landed hard on Crowley’s skull, causing him to scream in pain. Distantly, he registered that Uriel was fighting the other Angels. 

Aziraphale was now conscious and struggling, but he was powerless to stop the Angels from binding his hands. They were evidently struggling to contain him, considering the fact that the were gripping Aziraphale’s shoulders to keep him still. A flash of inspiration hit Crowley.

“ANGEL! WINGS!” Crowley screamed. Thankfully, Aziraphale got the hint before the soldiers could figure out what was happening. The Principalities wings sprang free, sending the Angels flying into the walls.    
  
“Oh, so we’re gonna play it that way, huh?” Hasturs laugh echoed through the chamber.

“Look at this sexy little Angel, if it can even be called that now. At our feet, where it belongs.”

“AZIRA-” Crowley was gagged before he could scream anymore. Crowley was powerless as Hastur seized hold of Crowley’s neck and lifted him up in the air.

“Watch now, little slut.” Hastur whispered as the Angels yanked on Aziraphale’s wings. “This is gonna be fun.”

Panic ran through every inch of Crowley’s being. They were gonna make him fall. FIrst the wings, then the Hellfire, and then…

“BEELZEBUB!” Crowley yelled, his throat raw from screaming. “ZZEY DON’T WANT HIM TO FALL-”

Hastur punched Crowley square in the jaw. Black blood leaked from Crowley’s mouth. “I don’t care what Beelzebub thinks. I don’t care what zzey do. You killed Ligur. You made a fool out of all of us. You’re gonna pay.” 

The Angels lifted their swords.

  
“Crowley, it’ll be alright.”

The Demons eyes shot open, and he laid eyes on his Angel. Tears poured from his eyes, and golden blood gushed from his mouth. But Aziraphale was  _ smiling _ .

  
“It’s okay, Crowley.”

  
“Aziraphale?” A near silent, desperate cry.

And the sickening sound of an Angels scream rang through the room.

  
  


In the distance, a bell rung, and a Demon’s soul ignited with the fires of rage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Screams.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot of things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: Very graphic rape, derogatory language.

Falling lasts forever. At least, it did for Crowley.

Every day of his life he feels the pain. He numbs it with alcohol. Numbs it with Aziraphale, though he knows he shouldn’t. His worst fear was Aziraphale falling. His worst fear was him feeling the same pain Crowley did every day. His worst fear was Aziraphale becoming cruel and unfeeling, a true Demon. He would never forgive himself. Crowley had lost everyone he ever loved. Except Aziraphale. 

And now Crowley was going to lose him too.

How could he have been so stupid? He should’ve just stopped the Apocalypse on his own. He should’ve forced Aziraphale to come to Alpha Centauri. He shouldn’t have bloody  _ cared _ so much.

His fault. His fault.

Crowley imploded with guilt.

  
Whispers are frustrating, especially to Aziraphale.

He hated secrets. Hated being in the dark, yet Heaven had kept him there his whole life.

“How could you?”  _ Gabriel. _ “You  _ know _ how Lucifer is, Raphael!”

The Archangel sighed, weary of this argument. “I know, Gabe, but it’s not like  _ I’m _ the one to blame.”   
“How are you not-”

“Hesparus came to the meeting of zzeir own accord, Gabriel. I had nothing to do with it.”

Gabriel growled. “You shouldn’t have been there anyway, Raphael! You’re an Archangel. I mean, what sort of example are you setting?”

“I was just there to check out the situation. That’s not bad, and if anyone asks me what I was doing, I’ll tell them.”

Gabriel raised his hands in surrender. “Fine. So what? You should’ve told zzem to go-”

Raphael was getting angry now. “Oh, what? You think I  _ Didn’t? _ ”

“Well, you didn’t exactly do a good job of dissuading zzem, did you?”

“I don’t see why it matters, anyway. I mean, I must admit he has a point, you know?”

“Who? Lucifer?”

Raphael looked away, and Gabriel shook his head in disbelief. “Do you know what The Lord is going to do to Lucifer’s followers, Raphael?”

Raphael scowled. “What?”

“She’s going to banish them from Heaven! I’ll never see you, or-or Hesparus ever again!”

“She wouldn’t.”

“The Almighty doesn’t lie.”

Raphael lost it.

“SHE LIED ABOUT THE PLAN, GABRIEL! SHE SAID SHE’D TELL US, SHE SAID IT WAS IMPORTANT I KNOW-”

“WHEN, RAPHAEL? WHEN DID SHE-”

“JUST SHUT UP! FOR ONE SECOND!” Raphael screamed. 

Gabriel just stared, his purple eyes flashing. “I-I just… don’t know what I’d do…”

Raphael took a step back. “I-I don’t know what I’d do either…”   
I’m sorry.

  
  


Crowley did not expect to awaken inside a small cottage in England.

  
He didn’t expect to wake up at all really. Taking his true form usually discorporated him.

But not this time.

“Good to see you’ve finally woken up.”

It was a voice Crowley recognised, but not too well. He suddenly had a flashback to when he was sitting in his Bentley with Aziraphale, of that Witch he’d run over… she was at the Tadfield Airbase…

“Would you be… Anathama Device?”

The girl stared down at him with chocolate eyes. “That’s what people call me, yes. And you’re that Demon from the last prophecy.” Crowley obviously had a confused look on his face, because Anathama kept talking. “You and your husband ran me over with your car.”

Crowley screwed up his face. “My what?”

“Your husband.” Anathama replied slowly. “He’s upstairs right now.”

Crowley jerked his head up. “Aziraphale. Are you talking about Aziraphale?”   
Anathama stepped back. “The Angel, yes. I thought you two were…” Anathama made a little gesture.

“We’re not- we are- oh, fuck it!” Crowley jumped up, and immediately screamed in pain and collapsed. “What the fuck? What did you do!?”

“Lie down, Mr Crowley.”

“Why can’t I walk?”

“Somethings wrong with your legs. Don’t know what.”

Crowley took a deep breath and sat back down on the couch. “You promise Aziraphale’s okay?” Murmured Crowley. Anathama Hesitated. “You better tell me the truth, Witch Girl, or I’ll make you wish you hadn’t prevented the Apocalypse.”

“Well, there’s no need to be like that.” Newt, or Tina as she preferred to be called now, stalked into the room. “My girlfriend saved your life, bub.” Tina said the word girlfriend with such beauty and affection that Crowley nearly burst into tears.

  
“Can one of you just tell me if Aziraphale’s alright, please?”

Tina and Anathama stared at each other. They seemed to have a whole, wordless conversation in five seconds. Crowley wondered if Anathama could physically communicate.

  
“What exactly… happened?” Tina said offhandedly as she played with the bobble’s on her cardigan. Her tone of voice made it clear she and Anathama already knew, and Crowley had to fight back tears of anger. “I think you know.” He eventually said. Anathama paled. “God, I… I’m sorry…”

Crowley glared at her. “Yeah, saying that’s gonna help, isn’t it.”

“Crowley.” Tina knelt down beside the Demon. “I know how you feel. It happened to one of my friends at high school. He was just… walking down the street, and this man…” Tina shuddered. “I can only wish I was there for him. Maybe he wouldn’t have targeted him if we were together, or I could’ve called for help…”

Crowley frowned. Bloody brilliant. Trying to be Demon-like and intimidating doesn’t tend to work so well in situations like these.

“Well, all I can really say is he’s alright. He’s been calling for you.”

Crowley jerked his head up, nearly colliding with a lamp in the process. “For-for me?”

“Yes.”

Crowley’s eyes stung as tears formed in the corners. He stared down at the pillow, unable to contain his emotions. “I need to see him. Now.”

“But, Mr Crowley, your legs-”

With a snap of his fingers, Crowley was teleported onto the bed where Aziraphale was sleeping. But, it really wasn’t much use, as Crowley passed out as soon as his body hit the bed.

  
  


Gabriel sat at his desk, hands folded across the shining marble surface. He was really reaching the end of his tether here. Beelzebub wasn’t responding, and none of the Units he’d sent were either. And now, Sandalphon had been discorporated.

“Right, again, from the top.”

“Don’t take that tone with  _ me, _ Gabriel. We may both be Archangel’s but I’m still your boss.” Gabriel took a deep breath. Normally he hated participating in Earthly activities like that, but it did help calm him down. “Alright then. You approached the Demon Crawly, and he… he discorporated you.”

“Yes.”

“And this was before he took his true form.”   
“Correct.”

“How in all the voices of the Heavenly Chorus did he defeat you, then?”

Sandalphon’s face turned stormy. “Now, Gabriel-”

“And where is Uriel?”

“Who the fuck cares? What matters is that-”

The sounds of screams flooded into the room, as well as the sound of Angels begging for mercy. The office door was slammed open, and broke off its hinges as it collided with the wall.

“Gabriel?” Sandalphon said calmly.

The purple eyed Archangel diverted his attention from the door. “Yes, Sandalphon?”   
.”What is  _ that  _ doing here.” An unexpected spike of anger shot through Gabriel. “That is the Prince of Hell, Sandalphon.”

“I know, but what is it doing  _ here, _ Gabriel?”   
“I don’t know.” Gabriel painted his trademark smile on his face, and turned around to face the figure at the door. “Ah, Beelzebub. It’s always such a pleasure.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Great. Zzey were angry.  _ Bloody  _ perfect. 

Beelzebub stormed forward and place a pile of photographs onto the desk. “Did you bastards do this?”

Gabriel’s smile twitched as he picked up the paper. “Why, whatever are you talking abou-” Gabriel’s face dropped as he stared at the images on the paper.  _ Oh God. OH GOD. _

Gabriel turned to Sandalphon, smile gone. He thrust the papers into Sandalphons hands. “What. Is. This.” Gabriel spoke through gritted teeth. Sandaphons eyes flitted back and forth between the Angel and the Demon, before they settled on the photos. As he stared at them, an ugly smile formed.

“Why, it’s a Rebel Angel getting what he deserved, of course.” Sandalphon handed the pictures back to a shocked Gabriel, and strolled leisurely to the windows. “‘S a pity we never got to join in the fun, eh?”

  
Gabriel shook his head as he stared. Graphic, awful, ruthless images of Angels pleasuring themselves using Aziraphale. His expression turned angry. “What the  _ fuck _ is wrong with you?”

Sandalphon snorted. “Don’t say you’re developing a Human conscience now, Gabriel. You were willing to  _ kill _ that Angel. And since we can’t do that, may as well put him to use. Some fun after the world ends, when it’s all the same.”

Gabriel was about to say something, when his eyes were drawn to the dangerous, sulphuric scent of Hellfire. Beelzebub walked forward as if in a trance, the fire burning in the palm of zzeir hands. “Go.”

Gabriel shook his head to snap himself out of his daze. “W-what?”

The Prince turned around. Zzeir grey eyes were filled with storm. “I said, GO, GABRIEL!”

Gabriel choked back a sob and stepped towards Beelzebub. “What are you going to do?”

Beelzebub glared at him, and sighed. “If you see Crowley again, tell him I  _ would _ think of you, okay?”   
“Wait, wha-” Beelzebub shut zzeir eyes, and snapped zzeir fingers. When zzey opened them again, Gabriel was gone. The Prince of Hell turned towards the terrified Sandalphon, and raised zzeir hands. “For Raphael, you bastard.”

  
  


It was awful to think that once, Crowley loved him, even though you probably couldn’t call it love. 

What did the Humans call it? Stockholm Syndrome? When you fall in love with the person keeping you captive?

He was so desperate for something,  _ anything, _ to anchor him, to make him complete. So fucking desperate. And then The King of Hell comes along and wants to help with your pain.

It wasn’t as if Crowley forgot what Lucifer had done. What he had said. It was just that he found he didn’t care anymore. He was never gonna find anyone better. Lucifer had shown him a kind of love he’d never experienced, and the only love Crowley would ever feel again.

That is, until he did.

  
They’d been… he wouldn’t exactly say “apart,” seeing as Satan still often…  _ fraternized _ with Crowley, but eventually he moved on. Crowley was no longer his favourite toy. That honour went to the newly created Incubi.

Crowley felt like he could breathe for the first time ever. He was going to go to Earth, reunite with Gabriel, and hopefully head far, far away from Satan’s influence.

  
The last time had been around the Nanny days.

_ “Look at you, my dear Crawly…” _

_ “Ngh-” _

_   
_ _ “So rebellious… can’t even stick to my plan. But, dear Crawly, you know we’ll win. If you want, I’ll make that luscious Angel you love so much fall as well, hmmm?” _ _   
_ _   
_ __ “N-No!” 

_ A thrust of hips.  _

_   
_ _ “A-ah, Oh Satan-” _

_ “I’m right here love.” _ __   
  


_ “I- please!” _

_ “It’s okay, Crawly. Let go for me. My beautiful, beautiful Crawly… So good for me, only for me…” _

_ “Yes, for you, for you…” _

“You all right?”

Crowley turned around and met the blue eyes of The Antichrist.

“Anathama told me what happened. M’ sorry.”   
Crowley bit back a scathing comment. 

“Did she tell you… everything?”

“Nah.” Adam looked down on the ground. “Jus’ pretty easy to guess.”

Crowley nodded and placed his head on his knees.

  
  


Aziraphale was turning fitfully. The way he wriggled suggested he was reliving his experiences.

Crowley sighed and raked his nails through his hair. He could almost feel Satan pulling, could almost feel the lust that streaked his body.

_ “I can fix you, Crawly. Though they tell me you call yourself ‘Crowley’ nowadays. Is that true, Little Angel?” _

_ “Y-yes, Sir.” _

_ “Hmmmm.” _

_ Crowley’s moans filled the room as she drew close to an unwanted orgasm. What was it, the fifth or the sixth today? She felt so overstimulated, it was all she could do to formulate words at all. _

_ “Please…” _

_   
_ _ “What? You wanna cum again?” _

_ “N-No.” _

_   
_ _ Satan chuckled as he thrust deeper in. _

_ “My good little liar.” _

_ Crowley cried out as he came, sobbing with the force, sobbing with how good it felt even though he didn’t want it. _

_   
_ _ “P-Please-” _ _   
_ _   
_ __ “Again? So soon?”

_   
_ _ “Stop, PLEASE!” _

_ “Oh, I see. Little Crawly wants to play hard to get. He wants to go chasing after that lovely little Angel. How PATHETIC.” _

_ Crowley could only sob into the crook of her arm. _

_   
_ _ “Say it, slut.” _

_ “I’m pathetic!” Crowley screamed as Satan forced her to orgasm again through miracles. “Oh, fuck, I-I’m a pathetic slut!” _

Crowley sobbed. He was pathetic, wasn’t he? He was nothing. NOTHING.

“Crowley? Why are you crying?” Crowley turned his head so fast he got whiplash, and found those gorgeous blue eyes had opened once again.

“O-oh God, Aziraphale-” No. He had to stay strong. “Are you okay?”

Aziraphale laughed weakly. “I think I’ll be alright.”

“God, Sa- Angel, they, they…”

“I know.” Aziraphale’s voice was filled with the threat of tears. “But, don’t worry, I-I just, I just imagined it was you…”

“I know you’re lying. I know how much it hurts.”

Aziraphale’s eyes opened wide. “Not you, too-?”

“No, Angel. Before.”

The Angel sobbed quietly. “And, my wings… did I fall..?”   
Crowley turned away. “Nope. Just began the process.”

“How long does it take them to regrow?”

“Anywhere between two weeks or two hundred years, I’m afraid.”

Aziraphale looked downcast. “Crowley?”

“Yes, love?”

“I-I just… I love you. So much. God, Crowley, I can’t even… You’re everything to me.  _ Everything. _ ”   
This knocked the wind right out of Crowley’s sails. “I-I don’t-”

“You were muttering it, my love.” Aziraphale whispered. “‘I’m nothing. I’m nothing.’ You said it over and over. So,” Aziraphale leaned forward and kissed Crowley on the nose. “I told you the truth.” Aziraphale pressed a hand to Crowley’s cheek.

For a heartbeat, the two sat there, savouring the moment. 

Eventually, Crowley spoke. “I should be the one comforting you, Angel. I shouldn’t be-”

“Nonsense, Crowley. You don’t always have to brave.”   
With that one sentence, Aziraphale burst into tears, and buried his face in Crowley’s neck.

“They, they just-”

“I know, my darling.”

“It hurt s-so much-”

“I know, I know.”

  
“ _ It’s alright, little Angel. I know you’re hurting. I know you wanna go back. But you can’t, can you? I’m your god now.” _

_   
_ _ “P-Please! Not again, I-I don’t-” _

_   
_ _ “There we go, yessssssss. Oh, Crawly. You’re so good for me. Only for me.” _

_   
_ _ “Please, let me go! I don’t want to! I-” _

_   
_ _ “Shhhh. Maybe I’ll get Dagon in here next time. We need something to fill that pretty little mouth.” _

_   
_ _ “No, no, no, no, no, no…” _

_ It’s alright, Crawly. It’s not as if you’ll ever fall back into Her grace. You fell, Crawly. You fell, and now you can’t love. This is the closest you’re going to get. So let me have you, Crawly. Let me fix you.” _

  
  


Well, at least he was wrong about one thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More than you think.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I still love you, after all this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: rape, angst

The next few days went by in a bit of a blur.

Aziraphale constantly fell into night terrors where Crowley was the only person who could console him. Crowley’s flashbacks only got worse.

However, during the day things were mostly fine. The two would sit together and talk about safe and neutral topics: How they were going to go to the Ritz when they got back to London (“Perhaps we could go to that gorgeous French bakery from the Revolution, Crowley! If it’s still there of course.”) How they used to explore the Garden together in the early days (“Satan, I loved you even then, you know?”) How they thought the ducks in St James were doing. Normal things. 

To be brutally honest, Crowley could barely focus on anything. All he could think about was Aziraphale’s safety. He’d helped surround the Jasmine Cottage with runes and sigils that would off Heaven and Hell, which also meant Crowley and Aziraphale couldn’t leave the house. Crowley didn’t give a fuck, and Aziraphale could still barely move. Still, at all hours of the day, Crowley was scanning and searching for danger. He was scared, and that was something very hard for Crowley to admit, even to himself. He was afraid Lucifer would decide to pay him a visit. He would be able to get past the sigils. He was the King of Hell after all. 

At night, Crowley would dream of the horrors Satan put him through in lieu of ‘fixing him’. It was all Crowley could think about. He would wake up aching. 

_ My dear Raphael. _

“Not Raphael.” Crowley would whisper to himself whenever he had these thoughts. “I am Crowley, and I am not yours.”

  
  


Aziraphale was in Hell.   
  
Well, he technically wasn’t anymore, but in the figurative sense he was still there, being defiled again and again, made to do things he didn’t want to do as Crowley’s screams echoed in the background.

It was too much. All of it. 

In the afternoons, he and Crowley would lay down in bed, and just hold each other. They would kiss, making up for all the times they could’ve but never did. They were soft, chaste kisses, but they still lit Aziraphale’s soul alight. He’d worried that his experiences might’ve ruined his and Crowley’s intimate relations forever, but he doubted that was true now.

He’d proposed it one night. They’d just finished a game of scrabble, and were feeling quite bored.

“Crowley, my dear?”

Crowley stopped tidying away the board game. “Yes, Angel?”

“I was wondering if, well… you would want to… do what we did before.”

Crowley sighed and miracled the game up onto the shelf where they had found it, and sat on the bed. “Do you really want to?”

“Well…” Aziraphale became very interested in the stitching of the duvet cover. “I just… I don’t want what happened to… ruin things between us, you know?”

Crowley let out a small laugh and took Aziraphale’s hand. “Nothing could ever ruin things between us, my love. Not this, and not anything else either. No matter what sort of relationship we have, I love you.”

“B-but… I just… I dreamed about you and I…  _ knowing  _ each other for so long, and it happened and I was so happy. But, then  _ that  _ happened as well, and-”

Crowley pressed a soft kiss to his Angels lips. “It’s okay, baby, it’s alright. I’ll go however fast you want me to. I love you so much, and if you truly want too-”   
  


Aziraphale laughed. “Not particularly, my love.” Aziraphale paused for a second “Crowley?”

“Yes, Angel?”

“Tell me how you felt when we first met again.”

Crowley laughed. “Of course, My Angel.”

  
  


Well, this wouldn’t do.

The Archangel Gabriel wasn’t exactly sure how Beelzebub had exerted so much power over him, but zzey had, and here he was.

  
He couldn’t recognise the patterns of the stars. He hadn’t thought of them or seen them in ages. 

He tried to divine his location, but found he couldn’t. Oh Lord.   
Suddenly, he heard voices.

“Hello?” Gabriel looked around, and saw nobody, but the whispers remained insistant.

_ Liar. _

Gabriel turned around. “W-Who said that?”

_ Traitor. _

“Face me, I command you!”   
_ You are not our father. _

Gabriel gulped. “What do you-”

_ You betrayed our father. _

Gabriel’s heart dropped into his shoes. “What?”

_ It’s because of you.  _

“D-Do you mean-”

_ You promised. _

Gabriel ran. Ran as he had for 6000 years. Away from his doubts. Away from his fears. Away from Raphael.

The whispering voices drew closer.

“I-It wasn’t my fault! He fell!”

_ Promised. _

“I-”

_ You promised. _

_   
_ _ “I-I promised.” _

Gabriel collapsed. He couldn’t run anymore.

  
  
The Archangel Michael was hiding.   
She honestly didn’t know what had happened.

Soldier’s and Guards ran past her, screaming. And they were being chased by a being of pure Wrath.

“Sandalphon?” She’d called.   
“Sandalphon!” She called again in terror. Terror that the Wrath would set its sights on her.

Eventually, she caught one of the soldiers. “What the bloody-”

Her sentence was interrupted by the floor breaking under them. It was all she could do to summon her wings and fly away as the other Angel fell to their doom.

“Gabriel! Sandalphon! Answer me!”

“I’m afraid Sandalphon is busy right now.”

Michael turned towards the figure. “Beelzebub?”

The Prince scowled at her. “Yeah. So what?”

“You-You did this?” Michael yelled.

Beelzebub shrugged. “What do you think?”

  
Michael hated cowards, even though she’d run away like one. How  _ dare _ Beelzebub do this? What about the agreement? But she supposed tensions had been raised after the Apocalypse didn’t happen. But how was that any fault of Heavens? (Apart from them not keeping a close enough surveillance on Aziraphale, but Hell had done the same with Crawly, after all.)   
  


It just wasn’t  _ fair.  _ All they wanted was to destroy the world, and that fucking Principality just had to get in the way. 

Well, not much she could do about it now.

  
  


Far away on Earth, Crowley was making a cheese sandwich. Of course, he could just miracle one, but he didn’t want to catch the attention of below. Plus, he quite liked the whole process anyway. It calmed him down, especially since nowadays there wasn’t a moment that passed where he didn’t think about being tied up and helpless. Not a moment went by where he didn’t think of the pain of getting his wings cut off. Not a moment went by where he didn’t think about how Aziraphale knew what those things felt like now too.

“Aziraphale?”

The Angel looked up from his book and grinned at Crowley, though it was quite obviously forced. “Oh, my sandwich! Thank you Crowley.”

Aziraphale took the plate from his loves hands with a clink of china against Aziraphale’s nails. The two settled down into a comfortable silence. Aziraphale eats, while Crowley watches. A familiar routine in unfamiliar circumstances. At least, unfamiliar for Aziraphale.

  
When it happened before Earth, Crowley had no one. He could only lie there, crying and debauched, desperately trying to escape the feeling. He could only wait for Satan to return, so that he could be broken to pieces and scattered all over again.

After Crowley was stationed on Earth, things were different. It became more humiliating for one. Crowley would have to degrade himself, beg for it. He would cum over and over again until he was a mess. Only then would he be dispatched, allowed to slither back up to Earth, where he’d cry into a bottle of whiskey, drowning his sorrows with thoughts of Aziraphale. Then, the next day, he’d meet with the Angel and everything would be mostly okay again.

He understood how Aziraphale felt. He was trying so hard to be strong.

  
“Angel, it’s okay.”

Aziraphale ceased his chewing and looked at Crowley curiously. “What do you mean, dear boy?”

“I mean…” Crowley balled his fists as tears formed in his eyes. “I mean you don’t have to be strong from me. Cry about it. I know it hurts so much. You don’t- I mean-”

Crowley suddenly sobbed, unable to hold it back anymore. “It leaves you f-feeling s-so violated, and awful, and I don’t want you to feel that way about anything, love, I don’t-”   
Crowley was cut off by the feeling of strong arms wrapping around his chest.

“It’s alright,” Said Aziraphale tearfully. “I love you. It’s just us now, dear. Just us.”

And the sobs of an Angel and a Demon echoed into the night, and the stars sobbed along with them.

  
  


What was happening? Why were they crying? Was it his fault?

Of course it was. Everything was his fault. He abandoned Raphael and Hesparus. He tried to murder an Angel. How had he not fallen?

  
“I’m sorry…” Gabriel groaned. “I’m sorry, I… I’m sorry, Raphael. I’m sorry.”

  
  


Raphael fell for Lucifer. He fell for sweet promises and honeyed words. He fell and he could no longer fly.

But he still flew in his dreams, when he had them.

He flew around the stars he created. He flew with Aziraphale to places they could never be found. He flew far away from all his problems. Away from Hell, from Heaven, from Lucifer.

Today, he flew to Gabriel.

  
The Archangel was just lying there, crying into the stardust. The glowing lights of the night sky whispering around him.

“Gabriel?”   
  


The stars stopped talking and turned to their creator. Crowley stepped towards the shuddering Archangel as he sobbed. Anger flooded Crowley. He’d tried to kill Aziraphale, and was probably complicit in his rape. He’d broken every promise he ever made. It was only after about a minute of standing there, breathing heavily, did he hear what Gabriel was saying.

“I’m sorry- I-I’m sorry-”

“Gabriel.”

The Angel looked up into Crowley’s eyes. Gabriel immediately recoiled.

“I-I don’t- HELP!”

Pity surged through Crowley’s body. This was his Brother. His friend. But not anymore. 

_ Why do things have to change? Why did I have to fall? _ __   
  


“Gabriel. Shhhhh, Gabriel. It’s alright. I’m here, brother.”   
  
Gabriel jerked his head up. “Wh-What did you call me?”

Crowley’s eyes opened wide in shock. For years, he had waited for Gabriel. And Gabriel had let him down. Let him suffer. He’d tried to take everything from him.

But a part of him was still Raphael. A part of him still loved Gabriel. A part of him longed for nothing more than to forgive. To be with his brother again. His family.

  
Crowley smiled.   
  
“Hello there, Gabriel. It’s me.”

And what was left unspoken floated through the air, and was gone forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Hope you're enjoying! I might take a break for a while, maybe write some smut... Thanks for all the support!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sure, pretend you don't care  
I know better  
And I sometimes wish I didn't

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: angst, mentions of rape, minor violence, torture (I guess?)

For the past two days, it seemed Crowley had shut himself off from the world completely.

He’d spent days on end just sitting in the corner, not doing anything. Not saying anything.

Aziraphale had procured many cups of tea from the young Anathama Device, and now he procured even more to give to his love to try and get him to move, to talk to Aziraphale.

Of course, Crowley did talk whenever Aziraphale engaged him. He’d give a tiny smile, and listen, and make polite comments, and they’d he’d walk over and they’d kiss and, in a way, it was all Aziraphale had ever dreamed of. 

  
But he wasn’t happy if Crowley wasn’t happy. Aziraphale couldn’t stop thinking it was his fault. Was he not supporting Crowely enough? Was Crowley thinking of all the horrible things Aziraphale had said to him? The nightmares didn’t help. He’d dream of what had happened and wake up panicking. He’d assure himself it was okay, Crowley was okay. Heaven and Hell couldn’t get them here.

Well, they probably could, but it didn’t help to dwell on those things.

His dreams of Crowley’s past had lessened too, which was a relief, seeing as it was awful to have to relive Crowley’s suffering. They’d come up with a few hypotheses on why this was happening, as Crowley had a dream of Aziraphale’s past too.

“It was the first time we met.” Crowley said as he stared out the window.

“Oh, so Eden, then?”

“No.” Crowley whispered. “Not Eden. The War.”

Aziraphale’s face had gone slack as he realised what Crowley was talking about.

“Well, I don’t think that really counts, dear. We didn’t talk to each other.” Stammered Aziraphale, trying to push the memory to the back of his mind. “You were just looking at me, and then… Crowley, you probably saved our lives back then.”

Crowley smiled. “Satan, until now I didn’t even realise it was you. I mean I just saw Gabriel and-” Crowley cut himself off.

Aziraphale smiled sadly. “You two were close?”

Crowley tensed up. “Don’t think I was bad for it. He was different back then.”

“It certainly seemed so. I can’t imagine the Gabriel I know caring for anyone, let alone a Demon.”

Crowley fell silent, and Aziraphale could tell he had touched on a sensitive subject.

They hadn’t talked since then, and Aziraphale deduced that it might be because of the swap, that the two had left remnants of memory inside their forms, perhaps memories they’d rather forget, and they had kind of… stuck?

Well, it was the best conclusion Aziraphale could come up with. The Angel sighed and put down his book. Crowley would have to talk some day. It may as well be now.

“Crowley?”

“Yes, darling?” Crowley murmured from the corner. Aziraphale blushed a little at the pet name. “I want you to tell me what’s wrong, my love.” Aziraphale could sense Crowley stiffening, putting up barriers around himself.

“Too fast?” Aziraphale questioned softly, not wishing to push his Demon.

Crowley got up and walked over to the bed. Crowley’s expression gave away nothing as he sat down on the bed and gave Aziraphale a small kiss.

“You could never go to fast for me, Angel.” Aziraphale smiled and touched his forehead to Crowley’s. “Then tell me what’s wrong, please.” Aziraphale paused and took off Crowley’s glasses. “I just want to help.” He added after Crowley turned his head away. 

“I had a dream last night.”   
Aziraphale sighed and prayed he didn’t look too embarrassed. “About me again?”   
“No. Gabriel. The  _ actual _ Gabriel. I told him who I was.”

Aziraphale frowned. “What did he say?”   
“I told him who I was. I honestly… I never even thought about the fact he might not know.”

“And that upset you?”

  
Crowley stared at Aziraphale, and began talking.

“Do you know what falling is, Aziraphale? Like what it  _ really  _ is? What it involves?”   
Aziraphale gulped. He had not been expecting that question at all.

The Angel cleared his throat. “I don’t, I’m afraid.”

“Well,” Crowley began, “You have to commit a crime against God. It’s essential, Angel. Then, they-”

“They cut off your wings?” Aziraphale enquired softly, his shoulder blades aching as he remembered what the Angels did. 

“Yeah.” He whispered hoarsely. “Yeah. And then they, they… they throw you into the fires of Hell, and boom. New Demon, ready and raging.”   
“Forgive me for asking, dear, but why is this important?”

  
Crowley let out a little sigh. “I… Raphael, I mean, well, I was a capital A Archangel. I was responsible for a lot. I was a healer, a creator, a leader… and Gabriel? It was the same jig for him. We helped each other with our responsibilities, but… It was more than that. We were brothers, Aziraphale. Back then he was so nice and kind, so full of love. That was the Gabriel I knew.”

Aziraphale stared at Crowley. “And..?”

“And when I fell, I couldn’t bear being apart from him. He made a promise-” “I know.”

Crowley stared at Aziraphale in surprise before moving on. “And… well, that was my reason for living. Lucifer… He was awful. When I fell… well, you saw what happened when I fell. He didn’t yell at me, l-like you saw, he… he did something worse, Aziraphale.” By now Crowley’s voice was heavy with sobs, and tears rolled down his cheeks. “He told me I was… broken. That The Almighty had broken me, and that he could fix me. That he was the only one who would e-ever love me again. S-So he loved me, and I didn’t want it, I didn’t-”

“Shhhh.” Aziraphale whispered, cradling Crowley’s skinny figure in his soft arms. “It’s okay. He was wrong. He has to have been, because I love you so much. And he… did you tell him? That you didn’t want him too, I mean…”

Crowley wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his t-shirt. “Yeah. I did. I know he was wrong, Angel. I know you love me, and I know he didn’t. It broke me, Angel. I was his little toy, just something for him to use. I wanted to play that role, in a way. He always made it good. I just… wouldn’t break. And when I met you, you made me stronger. Because I love you, even though I didn’t think you loved me back. You helped me withstand the worst, but before you I thought of Gabriel. He promised he’d save me. That he’d meet me and Hesparus on Earth. He promised, and he hated breaking promises. It’s the reason I volunteered for the whole Eden-snake thing. But… he wasn’t there. I left him messages in the aether. ‘If you’re here, contact me.’ He just… he ignored me. He broke his promise. And then he tried to kill you…”

“Oh, Crowley. I can’t imagine how awful all this has been for you. But I’m here now, love. I promise, I’ll  _ never  _ let anyone hurt you ever again.”

Crowley laughed. “Angel, I should be the one comforting  _ you. _ ”

Aziraphale gave a little grin and hugged his love tighter. “We should both be comforting each other, sweetheart. We’ll both comfort each other.”

Crowley let out a little sob. “Together, my Angel?”

“Together, my love.”   
And an Angel and a Demon laughed and kissed as the sun set.

  
  


Beelzebub panted as zzey stared at the rubble around zzem. The first time zzey’d brought down a plague of Wrath, zzey could hardly believe the damage that zzey could do. It made zzem feel powerful. Exhilarated. Beelzebub had been so weak as an Angel. And now zzey had finally exacted zzeir revenge.

  
“Beelzebub?”   
The Prince whipped zzeir face around, and locked eyes with Gabriel, who stared at zzem in horror.

  
Beelzebub realised zzey must look a sight. (Well, more so than usual.) Zzeir face was probably covered in ichor and golden blood, zzeir clothes smattered with dust from the rubble of Heaven.

It also didn’t help that she was surrounded by the bodies of the Heavenly Host.

“What the fuck have you done?”

Beelzebub grinned at Gabriel. “Don’t worry. I just discorporated them, but they won’t be coming back for a while.”

Gabriel looked terrified, and took a step back. “And Sandalphon?”

Beelzebub turned around as zzey fixed zzeir bowtie. “Well, he was a special case.”

“Beelzebub, this is not a joke! You mean you  _ killed  _ the Archangel Sandalphon?”

“Yes.”

“But-But-”

Memories flooded Beelzebub’s mind. Zzey remembered how Sandalphon acted like a jailer, protested about zzeir relationship with Gabriel, and how he was one of the first Angels who suggested falling. And then there was Crowley…

“Gabriel.” 

“Y-You can’t-”   
“You hated Sandalphon.” Buzzed Beelzebub softly as zzey stared out of the window.

Gabriel blushed in indignation. “I-I did not!”   
“Well, I don’t care if you did or not,” Said Beelzebub jovially as zzey shrugged zzeir shoulders, “I did you a favour.”

Gabriel turned away and stared up at the ruined ceiling. He felt as if he was falling apart.

“Beelzebub, I-I didn’t want this.”

The Prince of Hell scowled. “Oh, don’t preach to me, golden boy. You were willing to send  _ millions  _ of Angels into battles to get slaughtered-”

“ _ You _ were the ones who slaughtered them!”

“That may be so, but you were also willing to kill Aziraphale! You didn’t even  _ try  _ to make him fall or anything! Angels? Ha! Don’t make me laugh.”

Gabriel’s face turned red. “Making him fall would’ve been to cruel! Besides, we promised The Almighty-”

That. Was. It. 

So, Gabriel cared more about that traitor Angel that fucked up their plans than he did for zzem?

Zzey’d show him cruelty.

In a snap of fingers, Gabriel lay incapacitated on the floor, gasping in shock.

“SO.” Beelzebub boomed in zzeir true voice, “YOU CARE FOR THE TRAITOR ANGEL MORE THAN YOU CARE FOR ME?”

“W-Wait, Beelzebub-”   
“YOU LET US FALL.”

“I d-didn’t-”   
“YOU PROMISED TO MEET US ON EARTH. DID YOU MEET US, GABRIEL?”

Gabriel sobbed as he felt Beelzebub searching through his being, searching for lies, for truths.

“Stop this, please-”   
“ **DID YOU MEET US?** ”

Beelzebub’s true form burst free. Surrounded by Wrath and Greed and darkness that could absorb any light, Gabriel knew zzey could kill him in an instant.

And so the guilt and grief that he had held in for 6000 years poured out.

“No!” Gabriel sobbed out. “No, I didn’t! I thought you’d b-be different, that you’d try to kill me! I-I never meant-”

“ **HYPOCRITE. I DON’T KNOW WHY I EVER LOVED YOU.** ”

Silence.

"I know. I don't know why you ever loved me either."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The wild Author, after writing porn, continues her self indulgent angst fic. This pattern may become normal for the Author, because she is trash and one horny mf


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There might be Hell to pay  
For the two of us today  
I'll take the brunt of your lifeline

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been having a bit of a creative burn-out recently, with school starting again soon and all. I probably won't be updating at the same rate as I was before, mainly because of that, but as you can see, I've also been doing some other stuff. Maybe some more smut soon? Who knows. just enjoy.
> 
> tw: violence

Zzey didn’t realise what zzey’d said until after zzey said it.

Gabriel sat there, hugging himself, tears falling from his eyes. He smiled, although Beelzebub knew he was in pain.

Zzey could only watch as Gabriel cried.

“I never deserved you, Hesparus. I never deserved you, or Raphael, or anyone. I let Lucifer tear us apart. I just stood by and  _ let _ him.”

Beelzebub let out a sob and shrank back to zzeir human form, and reached out for Gabriel. “Wait, I-I didn’t-”

“But it’s true. I shouldn’t have let this happen, my love.”   
Beelzebub nearly discorporated then and there.

  
For years zzey’d secretly dreamed of hearing him say those words again.    
“Gabriel…”

“But I’ll fix it, I promise. I’ll free you. We’ll be… together again.” Gabriel moved forward and took Beelzebub’s hands in his. The Prince of Hell let out a little noise between a laugh and a sob as zzey placed zzeir head against Gabriel, and kissed him.

Stars exploded, galaxies formed and died as the lovers were reunited. The world was put to rights, then put to wrongs again.

And, faraway on Earth, something sparked inside Adam Young. Something he hadn’t felt in what seemed like years.

“Oh, God. Oh no!” Adam threw the newspaper he was reading to the other side of the room, and he and Dog disappeared

  
  


“So, let me get this straight,” Said Anathama Device as she absent-mindedly stirred her tea, “The Apocalypse has been restarted.”

“Well, yeah.” said Adam in a pained tone. “The voices got very loud an’ then… an’ then something changed. The universe I created is gone. We’re back in the old one.”

Tina looked like she was on the verge of fainting. “So… what do we do? Do we go to the Tadfield Airbase again, or..?”

“I don’t know.” Whispered Anathama. “Maybe we should ask Mr Fell…” 

Little did Anathama know that ‘Mr Fell’ was already pacing around the room, while his boyfriend lay down in the corner with a blank expression on his face.

“I mean, what the  _ Hell  _ do we do, Crowley? Do we do the same thing, will we have to fight, oh, I don’t know..”

“Jesus, Angel, I just… I can’t do it again. Not again… I mean, what in the everloving fuck even caused this?”

  
Aziraphale wrapped his arms around Crowley, fear curling in the core of his being.

“I don’t know, my love. But I think this might be the big one you were talking about, Crowley.”

The Demon shivered, every inch of his body aching with the memories.

  
“God, I just… last time, I nearly lost you Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale looked deep into the pools of his Demons eyes. In them was reflected so much pain, so much suffering, so much  _ love _ . It all culminated into an indescribable, ineffable emotion.

“I’m afraid.”

“I know.” Crowley muttered bitterly. “I’m not ecstatic about the idea of encountering my… my boss again.”

_ “I’m not  _ your  _ boss, sweet Crawly. You’re not like those other Demons. You’re MINE. You’re my sweet little Crawly, aren’t you, little one?” _

_ Crawly blinked the tears from his eyes as Satan pulled him into a kiss. A disgusting, sloppy kiss. _

_ Aziraphale. Just think of Aziraphale. _

“Crowley?”

Crowley slowly blinked. _He’s here. Its okay._ _I’m okay._

“I just… I thought he was going to take me, Aziraphale. Take me away, y’know. I’m just so… if it wasn’t for you and Adam…”

“I know. I don’t like to think of it either. I just… we have to.”

Crowley scowled.  _ You have to.  _ You  _ have  _ to tempt Humans, you _ have _ to take responsibility for all the awful things they do. You  _ have  _ to obey.

You  _ have  _ to let him have you, again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again-

“Crowley, it’s alright. I’ve got you.”

Until that point, Crowley didn’t even notice he was crying.

  
  


“Don’t worry.”

Gabriel stalked around the room, practically glowing with Holy Wrath. Beside him sat the tied up body of Beelzebub, Prince of Hell. “I’m not going to hurt you, my love. You just… refused to cooperate.”

“So what the fuck are you gonna do, huh?? Beelzebub spat out. “You gonna fuckin’ wait for God to redeem me?”

“Pretty much, yes.”

“It’s impossible, you know that.”

Gabriel chuckled. “Nothings impossible, Hesparus. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

Gabriel adjusted his bowtie and made to leave the room.

“I’ve got an Apocalypse to restart.”

It was always irritating to be cooped up. This was even worse.

Stuck in a fucking cottage surrounded by sage and crosses and horseshoes was fucking awful, and Crowley knew it must be even worse for Aziraphale, who was slightly cluastrophobic.

Basically, it sucked. 

Dwelling on everything that had happened over the past few weeks didn’t help. Crowley had written a list to try and process everything.

Pros:

  
Confessed my love to Aziraphale, and he actually loves me back!!!!   
Escaped from Hell

Cons:

  
Flashbacks

Losing the plants

Getting kidnapped by Hell

Aziraphale got hurt

Apocalypse restarted

Trapped in cottage

It was quite obvious the bad outweighed the good in Crowley’s situation, which he didn’t like. Despite everything, Crowley was still an optimist, but he was having trouble salvaging the situation. It was bloody difficult to find reasons for living as it was. If it wasn’t for Aziraphale, Crowley probably just wouldn’t have the strength.

So Crowley did what he always did when he was in a hopeless mood. He cuddled up beside Aziraphale, pulling his sleeping form into a tight embrace. Crowley slowly ran his fingers through the pale curves, seeking comfort in his love. Crowley slept, hoping he could find peace.

  
  


It was a hot day. The sun beat down on Crowley’s face as he blinked in the harsh sunlight. The sounds of children playing echoed in his ears.

Where was he? Who was he?

Crowley looked around, and saw a familiar sight. Rome, as it was in its heyday. He’d only been there a few times. With the city’s ruler having killed Jesus, Crowley didn’t really have any love for the place, but it had made a real impression on Crowley the few times he visited.

“Master Aziraphale!”

A young man ran up to Crowley. He seemed out of breath, and looked worried.   
“There you are! I was told you’d be here, master!”

“No need to call me that, young one,” Said Aziraphale cheerfully. “What are you here to tell me?”

“The Pontifex Maximus has called. He says he’s caught a Demon of some kind.”

Aziraphale’s face dropped. It couldn’t be… could it?

“What’s this Demon look like?” Aziraphale demanded, in a slightly harsher tone than he meant.

“Oh, um… I think the Pontifex said he had… serpents eyes?”

Oh, bugger.

“Tell him I’m coming right away.” Aziraphale said hurriedly, before running off to the alleyway behind the tavern, where Aziraphale teleported himself back to his lodgings.

Aziraphale scrabbled around frantically, trying to think of what to do. Crawly was in trouble. Though didn’t he go by Crowley now? Oh, what did it matter? They’d kill him.

_ Why do I care so much? _

No, he couldn’t think of this now. Crawly was just tempting him.

So why was he giving in? He was an Angel, for cripes sake.

But he couldn’t just leave Crowley to die. Even if he was a Demon, he was still one of God’s creatures. Aziraphale had to save him. Maybe he could take Crowley back to his place, interrogate him about Hells plans. Gabriel would be jolly pleased with that.

But he just couldn’t, and why? Surely Aziraphale hadn’t actually…

No. Don’t think about that. You’re wasting time. 

Aziraphale grabbed his scrolls and ran out of the building, to the Temple of Pluto.

“Oh, Pluto, take this Demon back to your domain!”

Aziraphale sighed with relief. At least he was right about them taking Crowley here.

He peeked round the corner, and was met with a horrific sight. Crowley was collapsed on the floor, his glasses lying broken beside him. Black blood streaked the floor.

  
Thankfully, Aziraphale could still hear Crowley’s breathing which meant he hadn’t discorporated.    
Okay. Now for the hard part.

Aziraphale strolled into the room, desperately trying to look casual and unbothered. Meanwhile, his best friend lay dying on the floor.

“Pontifex.”

“Ah, Aziraphale. Glad you came. Heard you had experience with Demons.”

Well. Technically, Aziraphale had said that he was  _ friends _ with a Demon when he was drunk, and that probably counted as experience. 

Aziraphale strode purposefully over to Crowley, and gently lifted him into the air with his arms.

“It’s okay, Crowley.” He whispered to the unconscious Demon. “I won’t let them hurt you.”   
“Aziraphale, what in Jupiter's name-”

With a snap of The Angels fingers, the Pontifex Maximus was transported to the arctic, and Aziraphale was transported to Crowley’s (rather dusty) lodgings, with the owner of the abode sleeping in his arms.

  
Slowly and gently, Aziraphale lay Crowley down on the bed, and brushed the fire red hair out of his eyes. The Demon moaned and shifted in his sleep. 

Aziraphale’s heart nearly broke as he stared into Crowey’s eyes.  _ This can’t be happening. _

Until then, Aziraphale had thought that it was all just Crowley’s temptations. The fluttering feeling that surrounded Aziraphale whenever he was near, how he dreamed of Crowley loving him,  _ taking  _ him. It had to be Crowley’s doing.

But it wasn’t.

“I’m sorry.” Aziraphale whispered to the Heavens. “I know he’s a Demon. I can’t help it.”

Aziraphale turned to look at Crowley, to watch him turn in his sleep.   
  
Tears streamed down Aziraphale’s face.

  
“I love you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good Omens x Roman stuff. I should do more of that, considering I'm a huge greek/roman mythology nerd. (thanks percy jackson.)


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't go, that's all I can ask of you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: rape, violence, angst

Raphael felt like nothing.

He was nothing.

There was no longer anything to live for. He couldn’t love. No one would love him. He was broken. Irreversibly shattered. Nobody could fix him. No one.

“But I can, Crawly.”

Raphael shuddered at the voice. He supposed one day he’d have to get used to his new name. Even now, when people called him Raphael, it felt like a knife through his heart. A reminder of something he could never get back.

“Not again. P-Please.”

Satan smiled at him, and Raphael could almost believe that everything would be alright again. That his fall was reversible.   
“Don’t worry, little one. I could never say no when you beg so prettily. Besides, I’m sure you’ll come to like it soon enough.” Lucifer nibbled at Raphael’s neck. Despite himself, Raphael pressed into the kiss, desperate for comfort, even if it was from  _ him _ .

Broken. Unlovable. Evil.

“There we go, my dear. I know it hurts.” Raphael sobbed, the feeling of burning and white hot pain creeping into his veins. “I know I’ve been rough with you, but you have to learn your lesson. You have to know your place, sweet one.”

“M-My place?”

Lucifer laughed, and placed a soft kiss on Raphael’s lips. “Yes, little one. Your place at my feet.”

Raphael shook his head, nearly shaking with the force of the movement. “N-No.”

“Oh, don’t worry, love.” Lucifer whispered. “You are special. You belong on my lap, in my bed. You’re  _ mine. _ My sweet Crawly.”

Raphael shook his head again, terrified. “N-No- P-Please-”

_ It’s alright. _

“Please, I’ll do anything-”

_ Be mine, and I’ll heal you. _

“I-I don’t-”

_ Let me love you. _

“Stop-”

_ Let me fix you. _

“I don’t want this!”

_ Let me take you. _

“NO!”   
_ Let me  _ ** _take _ ** _ you. _

“PLEASE!” Crawly screamed out, the world falling apart around him as Satan ripped into his core, took the light, sullied it. “I DON’T WANT TO FALL!”

  
  


Anathama and Tina were booby-trapping the house, Aziraphale was watching Adam to make sure he didn’t go sicko mode on the universe, and Crowley?

Crowley was just sitting there, spinning a piece of chalk around.

He had  _ never  _ felt this useless in his life. Crowley had always had a role to play, even if it was a role he didn’t want. Now he had nothing.

He told all this to Aziraphale once they were sure the time-bomb that was contained inside an eleven year old boy was no longer ticking.   
“I know how you feel, sweet boy. When you’ve been listening to orders your whole life, and you’re suddenly free to do whatever you want, it’s… disconcerting.”

Crowley just sighed. “It was supposed to be the rest of our lives, Angel. I mean, I didn’t expect peace, but I didn’t expect  _ this _ .”

“None of us did. But at least this time we have each other. Like,  _ properly _ .” Aziraphale placed his hand on Crowley’s, and smiled. “We’re here together.”

Tears streamed down Crowley’s face as he grinned and pulled Aziraphale into a kiss. “I know. I know, my love, I… Thank you.”

Aziraphale blinked. “For what, dear boy?”

Crowley remembered Eden. He felt like nothing. The only thing that kept him alive was one illuminating hope, a promise that was later broken. But then there was this  _ Angel, _ this beautiful being, this light in the darkness, this blonde haired embodiment of good, of love, who gave his God-given gift to the disgraced Humans because he couldn’t just let them die, this inquisitive, gluttonous,  _ wonderful  _ Angel who showed Crowley a world that he had never known, a world they both fell in love with. And evidently, the Earth wasn’t the only thing the Angel and the Demon fell for. If it wasn’t for Aziraphale, Crowley would be gone. He’d have killed himself as soon as he realized Gabriel wasn’t coming. He was tempted to use the Holy Water for that very purpose. But then he thought of Aziraphale. He thought of how Aziraphale looked at him, laughed and ate and drank with him. 

“You go too fast for me, Crowley.”

Though Aziraphale had realised the truth about Crowley’s feelings in the 40’s, Crowley realised only in 1969 that Lucifer was wrong. Aziraphale loved him.

And now there was nothing keeping them apart.

Crowley laughed, and wiped his serpentine eyes. “For being you, Angel. For being alive. For loving me. Take your pick, my love.”

  
  


_ Take your pick, my love. _

When Heaven found out about the two of them, Gabriel couldn’t help being jealous. The two of them seemed so…  _ at ease  _ together, even though they were an Angel and a Demon. If Gabriel were a more positive celestial being, he might’ve found hope in their story. But Gabriel didn’t know about Raphael. He only knew Crawly as Aziraphale’s opposition, the Serpent of Eden, and later on the incubus who had whisked Aziraphale away from them. If Gabriel had to be honest, he was reluctant to kill Aziraphale. He just wanted to get it over with. Just like he wanted to get fucking Armageddon over and done with.

Which reminded him. 

“Bring Uriel in.”

After a few seconds of waiting and drumming his fingers on the table, Uriel came storming in, knocking the Angel guards over with her wingspan.

Gabriel chuckled to himself. It was always fun watching Uriel get angry, especially since she rarely did. If felt like he was being threatened by a teddy bear.

Uriel slammed her hands down on the desk, chocolate eyes aflame.

“Gabriel, what in the name of God are you playing at!” 

“Well, in an attempt to restart the Apocalypse-”

“Wait.” Uriel blanched. “Is-Is that-”

“It is the notorious Prince of Hell, yes.”

Uriel shook her head in disbelief and stepped backwards as the still tied up Beelzebub growled at her. “Well, what is  _ it _ doing here?”

“Zzey are a  _ zzem, _ Uriel,” Gabriel muttered calmly, folding his hands across his chin as Uriel stammered in disbelief. “And I would thank you to refer to zzem as such.”

“Alright, I-”

“Are you fit to capture the Anti-Christ?”

Uriel blinked. “To capture the  _ what? _ ”

“The Anti-Christ. Perfectly simple, sunshine, though I know Raphael did a right number on you.”   
Uriel scowled. “Don’t you ‘sunshine’ me! Why didn’t you tell me that Demon used to be Raphael?”

Gabriel sighed and stared at the floor. “Because I myself didn’t know until recently.”

Uriel turned away, taken off guard by the sorrow in Gabriel’s voice. “I can do it if you need me too. But I,” Uriel slapped her hands down on the desk to emphasise her point, “I am  _ not _ harming Raphael.”

Gabriel grinned. “Fine by me. We’ll be a… a family again.”

“Yeah. If you ignore Sandalphon.” Uriel muttered bitterly.

“Oh, who cares about him? He didn’t even like us. Plus, he was a right prude. Remember Sodom.”

“Shut up.”

  
Gabriel laughed slightly maniacally as Uriel left the room. The youngest Archangel put on a brave, scowling face, but inside she was terrified. She knew Gabriel would go round the bend eventually. That whole falling business had hit him the hardest, and it was so obvious Uriel was pretty sure Michael and Sandalphon had taken bets.

Maybe Gabriel was right. Sandalphon was insufferable.

But Raphael? Raphael cared. He still did. He could have killed Uriel. Why wouldn’t he have killed Uriel?

She knew that this was probably all part of the Devils plans, but… something about that kindness…

“Yeah, we’ll be heading down to Earth.” Uriel stopped. A soldier Angel. Who was going to Earth.

Oh no.

Uriel listened a little closer. Over the rough voices of the soldiers, a clear one rang out.

“I know, I know, I’m not asking you to do that, you ignoramus-”

_ Michael. _

She hadn’t been seen since Beelzebub’s rampage. They’d assumed she’d died, and Uriel didn’t care. She never got along with Michael. She’d hated her because she was Raphael’s replacement long ago.

Uriel gritted her teeth and listened.

  
“All I am asking is for you to kill the stupid Demon!”

The Angel’s laughed raucously. “You ever tried hurtin’ that Angel? You can’t. Get close to him

and that snake comes out and decimates everyone. Imagine what he’ll do if  _ he’s  _ attacked!”   
“Well, Uriel will be there. She’ll protect you.”

“ _ Uriel? _ The fucker discorporated Sandalphon, he could easily take Uriel.”

Michael sniffed at the soldiers language, and continued. “The Demon isn’t much of a Demon. He won’t kill you, and he most likely won’t be able to harm a hair on Uriel’s head.”

  
Silence.

“Tell you what,” Said Michael sweetly. “You do this for me, and I won’t personally smite you. How does that sound?”

  
All of a sudden, the Angels were very agreeable and willing to tussle with the Serpent of Eden, and, in the process, take care of the rebel Angel known as Aziraphale.

And Uriel didn’t know what to feel. 

Why should she care about this Demon? Because he was once Raphael?

All she knew was that, in the end, she had to make a choice.

  
And so she did.

  
  


_ Raphael, _

_ If you are reading this note, leave wherever you are immediately. A team of Angels are coming to retrieve the Anti-Christ, with orders from Michael to kill you. I will be with them, but I shall help you however I can.  _

_ I know you have no reason to trust me anymore, but I remember you, Raphael. You were kind and compassionate, and I don’t believe you changed. _

_ I’m sorry for making you fall. I thought it was the right thing, and I don’t know if it was or not. All I know is I’m sick of being on Heaven’s side. I know what they were willing to do, what they did, and I hate it. You wouldn’t have allowed it.  _

_   
_ _ I wish you were back. Gabriel does too. He wants to be a family again. _

_ From, Uriel. _

Tears flowed unbidden from Crowley’s eyes, and he could barely choke down his sobs. 

_ I’m sick of being on Heaven’s side. I wish you were back. He wants to be a family again. _

Crowley just wished he knew whether to trust her or not. He wished that all this could just go away. 

He’d stopped wishing he’d never fallen long ago. After meeting Aziraphale and being betrayed by Gabriel, Crowley realised that Heaven didn’t love him. It never had, or he wouldn’t have fallen. Earth was everything good Heaven was and more. It was better in every way.

And, thinking like that, how could he trust anything Heaven said? It wasn’t fair. 

But then again, nothing in Crowley’s life had ever been fair.

What he might have to do wouldn’t be fair either.

But it was their best chance.

_ His  _ best chance.

Crowley took a deep breath. “You don’t always have to brave.”   
Aziraphale laughed quietly. “I’m not being brave.”

Crowley clenched his teeth. Who did Aziraphale think he was fooling?

It was just so damn  _ irritating. _

_ I hate myself. I don’t like it, I  _ told _ you. I just… It makes me want to- _

“How do you not want to crawl out of your own skin?”

_ Are you- _

“Are you joking? I Just- I mean- I don’t remember much of it, so-”

_ I’m not! If you really were- I mean, I know- I know we’re not who we were, but- _

“That doesn’t matter! Please, just talk to me, I-”   
  


_ I love you, Crawly. That’s why I do it. For you, For you. _

_ I love you. _

“Aziraphale!”

The Angel stopped talking and stared at Crowley in surprise. “Are you alright?”

Crowley blinked the tears from out his eyes.  _ I’m here. It’s alright. Never again. _

“I just… can’t. If you don’t talk about it, you just hurt yourself, keeping it all in.”

Aziraphale averted his eyes. “Crowley, I just…”

“I know Angel.” The two connected their hands in tandem, staring into the deeps of each others eyes. “I know, and I’m sorry.”

A loud shout sounded from the kitchen, which sounded much like that of a prepubescent boy.

Crowley and Aziraphale looked to each other.    
“Adam?”   
“Adam.”

  
Crowley could feel Aziraphale’s trembling, could see the fear in his eyes that his Angel had hidden for what felt like an eternity.

“Aziraphale. The plan.”

Aziraphale clenched his other fist, and nodded. “Yes.” He said, sounding not to enthusiastic. “The plan.”

  
The two made many plans if Armageddon 2 ever rolled around, or if Heaven or Hell decided to continue their pursuit. Most of them involved body-swapping again. It meant they’d (hopefully) be immune to both Holy and Hellish substances, and, if they had to be honest, the two had quite liked the experience. Crowley enjoyed hugging Aziraphale, even if he was technically hugging himself, and, as for Aziraphale, he took a well overdue look at Crowley’s… well, you can probably Guess. 

So there he was again. No longer occupying a body of sharp angles and lanky arms, Crowley was now nestled inside the one body he loved more than anything in the world.

And now he was going to have to betray its owner.

Maybe Aziraphale would agree to it. Maybe he would make it easy.

But Crowley knew why he was doing this. He didn’t give a damn about himself. He was disposable, a thing to be used. It was his nature. His purpose.

  
He remembered a time when he was special. When he was cared for, when he was happy.

But that time had passed. Now Aziraphale was all he had left. He’d do anything for his Angel,  _ anything. _ He’d leave the whole world to die, make any sacrifice. Without Aziraphale, the world was cold. Without Aziraphale, there was  _ nothing. _

_ Crowley  _ was nothing.

Choices. It was funny. Crowley’s whole life had been ruined because he wanted a choice, wanted a say. Then, he proceeded to give that same gift he had always wanted, the ability to forge a path through life and claim the stars as his own again, to pick a side, to go back to the way he used to be, a chance to  _ heal, _ to the Humans. And it had caused them nothing but pain.

  
Crowley often wondered, that if he ever gained freedom over himself, would he end up the same as Adam and Eve and their descendants? Going through the drudgery of life, entertaining the notion that if they were good, if they lived their lives for others, they would be rewarded with access to a Garden they could never reside in again?

Humanity was just like him. A ruin of what had once been good and beautiful, torn apart by someone who claimed to care for them. Now all that was left was the husks, unable to reach fulfilment, yet still constantly searching for someone who found the ruins as beautiful as the temples they had once been. Someone they would do anything for. Make any sacrifice.

Someone who loved them.

“Angel, pass me the marker, will you?”

“Why?”

“Gonna make some banishment circles, stuff like that. You just sit down, relax. My body isn’t what it used to be.”

Crowley was met with the disconcerting image of his body grinning at him. “Alright, my dear.”

_ Someone you’d do anything for. Make any sacrifice. _

Crowley choked back a sob, and got to work.

Uriel fidgeted in the corner, watching as the soldier Angels were repeatedly flung across the room by a small, curly haired boy with superhuman strength. She had never seen the Anti-Christ before, but she figured that the boy must be him.

Uriel wondered how he felt about the whole situation. She gathered he had been Human once, and Humans had a reputation for misinterpreting the Will of Heaven. They laboured under the impression that all good Humans went there when they died, which simply wasn’t true. They also liked to imagine that Angels cared about Humans, when in reality, only one Angel did. 

Suddenly, a loud shout came from upstairs. 

_ Raphael. _

She couldn’t exactly blame him for not heeding her warning, considering he had no reason to trust her, but it still… didn’t feel good to know.

_ He’s a Demon. Not Raphael. _

_ What was I thinking? _

No. She was sick of pretending.

  
  


“Please, Crowley, this is ridiculous! You can’t just keep me here! Let me go!”

Crowley shook his head firmly, the first tears spilling from sky blue eyes. 

“Can’t do that, Angel.”   
“I can’t let you do this, please.”   
  
Aziraphale had found himself inside a circle designed to trap Angels, which was surrounded by a circle designed to trap Demons. A perfect Catch-22.

“So, what? You’re just going to stop the Apocalypse by yourself? Last time we couldn’t do bollocks but spur the Anti-Christ on! How are you going to-”

“Angel. Please don’t cry.”   
  
Aziraphale touched Crowley’s eyes, and found them wet. 

“I-”

Crowley touched his hand to the edge of the circle. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Crowley!”

Crowley’s heart cleaved in two. He flashed back to the dark, dimly lit basement of Hell, where across a glass partition, an Angel sat tied to a chair as Devils caressed him, preparing to scar him in a way that could never be erased.

Aziraphale was scared. 

Crowley was scared.

Outside, a nightingale sang.

“I forgive you.”

He forgives because Crowley won’t forgive himself. When he looks at himself, he sees a ruin. When Aziraphale looks at him, he sees a temple.

_ You’re a ruin. One only I can love. You are nothing. But I still love you. _

“Crowley, you’re everything to me. Please.”

And the nightingale ceased his song, and flew away, leaving behind only the beating of his heart.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe it's not the end.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic, so please go easy on me.  
Comments and Kudos help me a lot, so if you like it please tell me!


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